Haircut
by humhallelujah
Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, I haven't posted AF fiction in a long time. I'm not dead! Just read the latest Harry Potter book. Well, this was a middle of the night idea (literally… exactly midnight), and I had to get it down on paper. Enjoy. It took me thirty-nine minutes to write!**

**Disclaimer: I own… nothing.**

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. One-chapter.**

_**Haircut**_

She had done it.

She was the first female ever to get accepted in the LEP. Sure, she was starting out on Traffic, the worst of the worst, but it was getting somewhere. And the little gadgets were pretty cool.

The auburn-haired girl—officer–grinned at her reflection in the mirror, holding up the moss-green outfit in front of her. Sure, it wasn't the latest style, actually, it was downright ugly, but it's the thought that counts, right?

She practically skipped into her bathroom to change into her new uniform, something rather unlike her. The cloth draped over her loosely, being made for a male's structure, but she didn't care if she went baggy for a while.

And it was back to the mirror.

The gold-framed picture was of a brown-haired, brown-skinned, hazel-eyed girl in a rather large green suit. But it didn't look right.

It didn't _feel_ right.

She studied her reflection more closely, taking in every detail. She noticed the freckles across the bridge of her nose. No, that wasn't wrong.

The dimples—or lack thereof. Nah, she didn't care for dimples. Too girly.

The large eyes. What was wrong with large eyes? Nothing, of course.

The pointed ears—no, everybody had those.

The small chin? But what did that matter?

She was a centimeter below average height. But that was the average height for males and females, so it didn't count.

She cocked her head to one side and turned around; trying to figure out what she was missing. All she knew was that she couldn't possibly go to work the next day like this.

She twirled again. Her hair flew out behind her, a whole foot and six inches of it. She was very proud of her beautiful curls.

And then it hit her. The hair. Her gorgeous hair had to go.

In addition to her tresses, her personality had to leave also.

She couldn't waltz into the LEP tomorrow boasting curls and a girlish personality! She had to toughen up—curse, swear and push around. She couldn't be the girl in the group of guys. At least not figuratively.

_I'll show them that I'm not different. I can be just like them. I can get to the top._ She thought fiercely. Determination. The first step to her transformation.

The second was her hair.

Trembling, she picked up her pair of scissors. When was the last time she had done this?

She steadied herself (of course you can't handle scissors with a shaking hand) and cut the first lock off.

_Snip._

Why was she doing this?

_Snip._

Why did she want to become an officer?

_Snip._

Was it the attention? Did she want simply to be famous, to be the black sheep in the herd?

_Snip._

Perhaps. Perhaps to a lot of things. Or maybe she wanted to be the hero. To save people.

_Snip._

And then she remembered why. Because she enjoyed it. Because her father had been an LEP officer, and he had always taken her to work. There she would sit, fumbling with inactive Neutrinos and the latest equipment. And she would admire her dad from time to time, envying his fun life.

_Snip._

But of course she soon learned that the LEP can be anything but fun. It could be serious, and deadly. This didn't deter her at all. More excitement to the job!

_Snip._

The strands of hair fell to the ground, coming apart but still staying together. Kind of like how she felt.

_Snip._

Her good reasons for becoming an officer were falling apart, but she still wanted to be one. And nothing would stop her.

_Snip._

Did she really want it this short? It was almost cropped, turning from eighteen inches to four and a half. Never mind… it was cropped. And Holly wasn't much of a hand-eye coordination person yet, so it was uneven and unleveled in many places.

_Snip._

But what did it matter… it would prove them all wrong. She knew they were betting on her… three days at the most. They all thought she would get the pink slip that fast? Pfft. She was determined to stay at least… three years? Would that be a good time?

_Snip._

They were gambling. On her. How childish! She snorted slightly and moved the scissors a bit to the right on accident, now having slanted areas of her hair. She had her eyes closed, too. Whatever she had done to herself, she wasn't ready to see it.

_Snip._

Was she almost done? And there was still the matter of her personality. What would she be like? She definitely couldn't be the sweet, boring, expressionless girl she was for the beginning of her life.

_Snip._

How about… fiery? She could have a spit-fire personality, giving random insults and comebacks out everywhere. She certainly was smart enough for it.

_Snip._

Almost done. Just a few more snips and that would be it. She winced as the current lock of hair added to the growing pile under her chair. It took her a couple seconds to remind herself of her purpose and stop her from staring in horror at the pile of pretty brown tresses beneath her.

_Snip._

Was this all worth it?

_Snip._

Of course it was.

_Snip._

And then it was over.

She slowly turned her head up to the mirror, cracking one eye open after the other.

It was a little mess, hair sticking out at random intervals. It was a little roguish look, her hazel eyes just adding to it.

She had to get used to acting… thorny, though. She could start immediately.

A scowl appeared on her face as she realized she had gotten brown hair all over her new suit. Now she'd have to wash it.

Looking up at her reflection and trying out an evil grin one last time, she headed for the wash-room.

She left the pile of hair, and her old personality, behind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow. I got a LOT of reviews, especially for a small fandom like Artemis Fowl. One person even put me on their Story Alert list! Therefore, I won't disappoint them, by adding another chapter.**

**That sentence sounded a little confusing… ah well; you obviously know what I mean.**

**It's been like only three and a half months since I started writing fanfiction. …Weird. I looked at the last chapter of this, and found so many mistakes! Ack! I just want to redo it!**

**I'm starting to think this thing about writing the story while going on is pretty good. But my chapters won't be that long. One or two thousand words. Hopefully two, because I love long chapters, so I try to write them. I will update more frequently, though.**

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. **

**Haha, I don't have to add 'one chapter' cause obviously, it's not a one chapter any more! Haha!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl. Eoin (I only figured out yesterday that you pronounce it Owen!) Colfer does. I am not Eoin Colfer.**

**And here it is… the second chapter to Haircut. I suppose you're going to want me to go through with Holly's whole 'transformation' now. Actually, that doesn't sound like a bad idea. This is going to be a chaptered story now… weird… **

_**Haircut**_

**Chapter Two**

When Holly awoke, she felt empty with the lack of her bronze curls.

She sighed with dismay. This would take some getting used to.

Leaving the warm covers of her bed, she groaned as sore muscles got to work again. Even Traffic took a bunch of running. Not to mention the standing up all day.

As she walked to the restroom, she already missed the feeling of her hair cascading down her back. Her hand automatically reached for the brush, but when she looked in the mirror, she knew she didn't need it.

She saw a girlish face with a pretty complexion that most male elves would drool after. The manicured nails, the whole deal. But framing her face was a tomboyish haircut, with uneven patches everywhere. And she had heard somewhere that Mud People called it the 'pixie' haircut. _Like any pixie would be caught dead with_ _this_, she thought.

Well, it could be worse. At least she didn't shave herself bald.

And still, she was worrying about her appearance. Mistake Number One. She scolded herself for that in her head, while taking her now clean uniform out of the dryer.

When she was dressed, she packed her lunch slowly, occasionally hesitating at cookies or the like and putting stuff like sandwiches instead of pasta. Stop with the juice, go for the soda.

When she left for the door to walk to work, she felt strangely light with the absence of her hair. Oh, but wait. She had forgotten something.

A last minute search of her room was in order, pulling out diaries, makeup, and any other things that seemed too feminine.

Tying the knot of the giant trash bag she had placed them in, she threw them all away.

She had left the pile of hair in the restroom, to remind her of her purposes. And to make her room more dirty.

The door was in front of her, menacing and looming. She could very well be facing social suicide for being a 'wannabe' or something. But then again, she could have been taking the same chances by staying the same.

Taking a deep breath and suppressing a shudder, she walked right through the glass double-doors.

The attendant looked up at the noise the door made, and proceeded to gape at Holly.

Staring made her nervous, but she pretended to pay no heed to his obvious amazement.

"Holly Short, signing in for Traffic duty."

The sudden break in the silence caused him to blink and remember his duties.

"Of course. You may proceed to get your equipment."

She nodded curtly, straightened and went on. First walking in, nobody noticed her, and that was perfectly fine for the past Holly, but insulting for the new. She cleared her throat rather loudly, and a few heads turned to her.

These heads were gaping so much that their fellow heads turned to look, and in a matter of a few seconds, every single head was staring.

A mime could've broken the silence. Even Captain Root **(1)**, the hot-headed proud individual that was famous with the nickname Beetroot, was gaping like a fish.

Holding her head high, she walked straight past them, her boots making clanks on the floor. She could feel everyone's eyes on her as she picked up her projector and signed it out, yet she looked calm.

But on the inside, her emotions were struggling to surface and her heart was pounding fast.

Holly was strong. She knew it. It was, perhaps, the only reason she was able to keep a patient face and her emotions down. It was all she could take not to break down in front of everyone.

As she started her patrol about three blocks away from Headquarters, she again ignored the strange looks she was getting. After all, it was only yesterday when she had patrolled docked out in curls.

Now from far away, she looked like an extremely small male.

The cars weren't very interesting to watch, and before long, Holly found herself getting bored. One young elf was eyeing her critically. The innocence of him made him seem like a toddler, but he was clearly a teen.

After a little staring, he spoke up.

"Are you a boy or a girl?" Holly looked at him for a moment, and then laughed. The mother of the boy was looking flustered and was apologizing every other second.

When she was done, Holly turned to the boy, amusement dancing in her eyes.

"I most certainly am a girl."

Going back to the building for lunch (it was a popular thing to do now, hanging out in the commons), she found that she had became used to the staring, and now was able to successfully ignore them without feeling awkward. Still, the number of heads that turned her way as she entered the room was quite unnerving.

_Maybe I should just eat at my post… _For a moment, she was unsure. Then an image popped into her head.

The pile of pretty brown hair at her house.

And just like that, all hesitation disappeared. Searching the tables, she found an empty seat.

She plopped down in a seat right next to a very surprised Trouble Kelp, who was also a traffic worker **(2)**. And a bunch of his friends, of course.

At first, she took no notice of him (or so it seemed), but after a while, his staring grew annoying.

"What?" She snapped, losing patience.

He eyed her quite like the young boy had. "Why did you sit here?"

The question took her off guard. "Because I wanted to."

Apparently, he was satisfied. "Alright. I'm Trouble Kelp."

"Holly Short." She felt much like she had in elementary, with introductions and wanting to meet new people.

After a moment, she spoke up again. "Do you have a brother? Younger?"

Surprised, he replied. "Yeah, I do."

"Does he walk to school by my post, about three blocks from here?"

"Yes. Why, did you see him?"

"Actually, yes. You look like him."

He snorted. "Wish I didn't. He's rather immature. And his name's Grub."

"Grub and Trouble, huh?"

He turned to her, daring her to make a comment about his mother's naming skills or something of the like. "Yup."

"Creative."

A grin spread across his face at her reply, seeming to decide she was alright. Slowly, he spoke again. "You know, you're alright. You can go on and hang out with us, if you like." It appeared like he was feeling like a new kid in school, also.

She met his eyes, and kept her face impassive of any shy smile or weak grin that was an automatic response to an invitation like that.

"Cool."

**END OF CHAPTER**

**(1)—Just wanted to make this clear. Root isn't a Commander yet. The events in this story take place before the events in Artemis Fowl. Really, I don't think Arty is even _born_.**

**(2)—Trouble is also a Traffic worker, and not yet a Captain.**

**I will now take up this space and advertise my HP one-shot (the latest one that might be a chaptered), What Is It. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**_READ THIS! _Okay, I'm trying to get this in sync with the Artemis Fowl files. I have to fix stuff up cause I wasn't planning on this being chaptered.Holly's in Traffic for six months before getting into Recon. Trouble becomes a Captain and Root a Commander in those six months. And I know I said she was the first female to get into the LEP in the first chapter, and technically she's not until she gets into Recon, but I'm making her the first female in Traffic, too. I'll end the story right before the events in the Artemis Fowl files, and then everything will go on as it went in the books. Actually, I'll have the transformation in this story and that's it, and then have a sequel with the rest of the six months. Alright? Or I could keep the fic as one, but then a lot of the story won't have to do with the title 'Haircut'. **

**So... two choices. One: this story covers Holly's transformation and I do/do not have a sequel with the rest of the six months. Or, Two: The whole six months in this story, start to finish. Pick one.**

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl. Eoin Colfer does.**

_**Haircut**_

**Chapter Three**

The day's events grew boring after lunch, and by the time Holly reached home, she was dead tired. And she wished nothing more then just to go forward in time to when she was promoted to Recon. The fun job.

But she knew what was going to happen when she got back. A few precious moments of silence on her couch was all she would get.

Five… four… three… two… one.

Then the phone rang. Sighing, she picked it up and answered weakly.

"Hello?" The perky voice of Holly's best friend rang out into the silence.

"How was the second day of work?" She had called yesterday, asking how the first day of work went, and probably would call tomorrow, too.

"Fine, I suppose." Her voice was monotone, but in her head her thoughts were swirling around in excitement. Today had been a good day.

"You don't sound right, Hols." A pause. "I know! How's about we go see a movie? Action's your favorite! That new 'Attack of the Mud Men III' is out! Or was it four…"

Holly rubbed her temples tiredly. "It was three. Lils, I really don't feel like it." **(1)**

Lili Frond was Holly's best friend since early childhood. A big feminist and what you would call a girly-girl, she was a couple centimeters taller then Holly and had a lighter red color of hair, as well as a lighter color skin. She was moderately intelligent, and usually had a different guy every week.

They were the pair of the moment in school, being Lili and Holly, or Lils and Hols. Sometimes, though, Holly just felt like a tag-along.

The bright voice started up again, knocking her out of her thoughts.

"Alright then, what about ice skating? You love ice skating!"

"Really, I'm just tired. All I want to do is sleep."

"Are you sure you don't want to get our hair done or something?"

She froze. Hair. Lili didn't know. What would she think?

"Lili, about my hair…"

"What about it? You didn't dye it or something, did you? 'Cause you always said you wanted to make it black!" An audible gasp was heard from the receiver.

"My hair… I… cut my hair."

There was a pause and a horrible, suspenseful silence for a moment.

"Well, we all need a change sometimes, I suppose. How short is it?" She talked very slowly.

"Um, it's cropped. A few inches long, maybe." Suddenly Holly was very uncomfortable.

"Oh." It seemed like she was fidgeting. "Why?"

"Because… I had to."

"Why?" Her voice was softer now.

"It was the only way."

"To what?"

Another pause. "To be accepted."

Her voice rose a notch. "Accepted? You cut your hair to be accepted? You turned into a _boy_ to be accepted? You ARE accepted, Holly! With me! If you give them time, they will accept you as a girl!"

A little bit of anger presented itself in her mind. "Yeah, accept me as a girl, sure! As a girl, Lili! As someone different then them! I admit it, I want to fit in; I want to be received and acknowledged as _one of them_! And I'm not a _boy_!" She had forgotten how much of a feminist Lili was.

"It's not worth it, Holly! You're changing yourself; you're going to do things you don't want to for approval! There will be a price! What'll you do next, abandon me!"

The spark ignited, and those words were just fuel. Holly could feel the anger flowing through her blood vessels, or maybe it was just her over-active angry imagination.

"Well, maybe I will." And she hung up. A little rash, perhaps, but at the moment, she didn't care.

Feeling the lingering effects of adrenaline from the argument, she decided she didn't want to go to bed anymore.

She changed into some light clothes and went outside to run, thinking over her conversation with Lili.

And after twenty minutes of mulling it over, she was no closer to a conclusion then she was at the beginning of her run.

She watched the ground as she ran, observing the cracks and wondering about the many things she had done wrong.

Maybe, if she had done better, she would still have a friend. But her arguments with Lili usually only lasted a day.

Holly's stubborn nature knew that this fight would last much, much longer.

Perhaps Lili was right. Perhaps she shouldn't have changed much.

Suddenly, she collided with another running elf. Looking up from the ground, she saw a grinning Trouble Kelp, his brown eyes smiling and dark brown-red hair damp from sweat. He helped her up with a friendly "Hey, new girl," and a pat on the back.

And as her doubts disappeared into the words of her new friend, Holly knew that come what may, she could survive this.

**END OF CHAPTER**

**(1)—Ha! Bet you didn't expect that! Don't worry; I have the whole thing planned out. **

**It may seem as if its Holly's fault she lost Lili, but in my story, it is. I think Holly has to have her faults also, and it seems to me she's hot-headed and tends to speak first and think later. So she might wreck her friendship with Lili, but she will regret it later. And due to her overwhelming stubbornness, they probably won't be friends again. **

**By the way, if anyone has an idea on what this fic's genre should be, let me know. I don't like keeping it on 'General'. Ack, this chapter's a little short. Sorry for the long Author's Notes, I had to clear some things up. Thanks to all the reviewers!**

**One other question to you: Should I make this Holly/Trouble? Oh yeah, and please comment on the READ THIS paragraph at the top. I need to know.**


	4. Chapter 4

**This story is really fun to write. This is a good thing for you guys, since you get more updates. You like me! You really like me! WOOHOO! This is my most successful story yet (sniffle). It already has more reviews then my 6 chapter other Artemis Fowl story! (dies)**

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl.**

_**Haircut**_

**Chapter Four (!)**

The next day at lunch, the whole commons was in an uproar.

Commander Yude, their past commander and ex-muscle-man, had retired, claiming about 'faulty novices' and 'idiot rookies'. He wasn't a very nice guy, and everyone was glad to see him go.

Beetroot, now called Commander Root, had taken his place. He was happy because he now had the power to keep people from calling him his nickname.

Foaly, the centaur in charge of the electronics, was ecstatic because he now had a new person to tease. Supposedly, Yude was very boring.

And Trouble was missing.

Not pausing to think about what could have happened to him, the rest of his buddies kind of just picked at their food and talked quietly. Not to her, though. Sometimes Holly thought that they just put up with her 'cause of Trouble.

A loud banging noise awoke them all from their thoughts.

Trouble Kelp came walking through the middle of the hallway, looking extremely pleased and holding a bundle of something in his hand. He came over to the Traffic section.

"Guess what, guys!"

One of his friend's spoke up. "What?"

"Well, Be— I mean, Commander Root put some other guy as a Captain, Sool or something, **(1)** and I got to replace Sool's spot on Recon!" He was now in the beginning level of Recon, but it was somewhere.

Everyone was shocked. They all knew Trouble was the best of the Traffic workers, and they all knew he was going to be the first to be promoted, but this was major!

It meant he'd have to sit with the other LEPRecon officers.

He seemed to know what they were thinking, because he grinned and said, "Don't worry, I'll still sit with you dorks."

Personally, Holly thought that this promotion hadn't done much to Trouble except a serious boost to the ego, but maybe she was just jealous.

Maybe.

Or maybe she was just feeling insulted that Trouble had called her a dork. This one was more likely, as the rest of the table looked like they were feeling the same way.

Trouble sat down in his normal seat next to her, holding his new uniform protectively. _Well, I can't blame him after working in _Traffic_ for four months. _

The uniform was rather like the Traffic one, except shinier and cleaner-looking. And it had the big 'LEPRecon' insignia on it.

Holly wasn't the only one staring. The rest of the table—the rest of the hall—was also enraptured by the elf that was still sitting with Traffic though he was now in Recon.

He had impressed many an officer, and she couldn't help but wonder if that was _why_ he did it.

But the thoughts were quickly pushed away. Trouble was a good guy; he could sit with his friends if he wanted.

And after lunch was over, they all said their solemn goodbyes to him, trying very hard to keep a straight face as Trouble walked away nervously into the Recon area like a kid in his first day of school.

Perhaps they weren't so grateful.

After work, Holly stepped nervously into her home, watching the phone as if it were a bomb, ticking down every moment.

Five… four… three… two… one…

And nothing happened. The phone continued to sit there innocently, and she relaxed for the slightest second.

Unfortunately, she had spoken too soon. The phone rang, making her jump suddenly.

But there was a slight chance it wasn't her. She crept up to the phone and looked over it at the caller ID.

'Frond, Lili'

Even the name raised a siege of anger within her. Holly didn't forgive grudges easily, and this was no exception. How _dare_ she question her motives, question her doings! They were _her_ doings and hers only. And only _she_ got to choose what _she_ wanted to do. She could care less what Lili thought.

Right?

Of course.

She had other friends. But they were more Lili's friends then hers, and they were more of acquaintances anyway. Besides, they'd probably think the same way as Lili, the stupid lot.

But the more she thought about it, the worse she felt. She had lost a friend. Yet by doing so, she had gained one. She had lost Lili, who had been there since forever, helping her through everything and likewise, sticking to her even though she had other friends. She had gained Trouble, who was a fun guy to hang around with, as well as one of the only people who were nice to her in her whole _job._

Lili had encouraged the job idea at first. _Probably because this way females could show that they were as good as men; _she thought. _But then again, isn't that what I wanted also?_

Her thoughts were just getting confusing. Hating the guilty pit that settled in her stomach, she dismissed all thoughts of Lili and told herself that through it all, it was Lili's fault. Everything was her fault.

And it wouldn't change.

The next day at work was incredibly boring. She mainly sat at her post, occasionally walking out in the center of the street and yelling 'STOP' for her projector to hear.

Back at her chair in the blazing sun, Holly watched with leaded eyes. This job was so _dreary_ that it dreared the dreary-ness out of everyone. At least, that was what Holly's tired mind was thinking.

This was a skill she had learned in high school, and it turned out to be very useful. She could sit there and doze off with her eyes open, and practically 'programmed' herself a routine. In this case it was: sit up, walk, yell 'stop', walk, sit down.

Very interesting. She even had gotten herself to get up right when she was supposed to, every forty-five seconds or something the lights changed. Although she was still working on getting herself to watch out for cars---three days and she had already almost gotten herself run over.

At least the cars weren't like Mud Man **(2)** ones, those would be much more painful to be run over by.

She sighed as her internal clock hit the time that she was to walk up there. Wearily slugging her way into the street and managing a tired 'stop…', her eyes suddenly widened at the sight of someone in a car.

It was Beetroot. Or actually, Commander Root.

It was his first day as a Commander… and he was late. He looked really annoyed about it, too.

Uh-oh. He had seen her half-dozing off at the sidewalk. She grinned sheepishly at him, and he glared at her and mouthed 'My office. Before lunch.' It wasn't in coherent sentences, but the meaning was crystal clear.

It was what, her fourth day here? And already she had managed to get herself in trouble with her new, angry, LATE, commander.

Hopefully, the rest of her week wouldn't be as bad.

**END OF CHAPTER**

**(1)—Okay. I thought this out. Sool becomes Commander after Root dies. I decided this was because Sool became Captain first. Yeah, there are bound to be a couple other Captains that have been in that status longer then him, but they die or retire or replace other Commanders. Make sense? Does to me.**

**(2)—I am so tired. Instead of Mud Man, I almost wrote 'Muggle'. At least, that's what I was thinking in my head.**

**This chapter may not be that good. But the next one will be a little deepish, because I'm listening to the Moulin Rouge soundtrack while writing it. Hope you like it, people.**

**And Trouble/Holly and the whole six months it is. I want to make it fit with the books, though, so they may or may not be together at the end.**

**Next chapter: Root and Foaly make an entrance! Or in Root's case, a second entrance!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl.**

**Mmkay. I'm changing some things from the AF files. Root doesn't know Holly's a girl. He finds it out in the beginning of the AF files. Well, HE DOES NOW. So there. And there are probably a few other things. Oh yeah, Corporals. Root refers to Holly as a Corporal in Traffic. She gets promoted to one later.**

**P.S. I didn't know what Haven currency was. So I sidetracked the subject.**

_**Haircut**_

**Chapter Five**

Holly sighed as she walked down the hallway. Man, this _sucked_. Already, she was in trouble with the Commander. She nervously started to push open the door, and then stopped, remembering that she should knock. She hovered by the door a few seconds, before almost being run over by something.

Apparently something with hooves. She looked up, and there was a cheerful looking centaur. She couldn't help but stare for a little; after all, she hadn't actually seen one before. And this horse-like creature with a torso of a man with a bright t-shirt and a tinfoil hat on his head wasn't exactly what she imagined one would look like.

Oblivious to her staring, the famous centaur grinned perkily at her and reached out a hand to help her up. She took it, a little warily.

"Hey there! You must be the female-gone-man everyone's talking about. What was it, Squat or something?"

Was that an insult? "Short, actually. Holly Short."

"Right, right." He then noticed that she was standing next to Root's door. "Got yourself in trouble already?"

"Erm… yes." She saw Trouble enter the hallway, apparently going to lunch. He was soaked in sweat and looked extremely tired. When she waved at him, he waved half-heartedly back.

"So, do you appreciate the casual genius?" When these words came out of Foaly's mouth, Trouble did a double take. He started mouthing 'no' over and over.

"Um…" Foaly's eagerness and bobbing up and down and Trouble's violent shaking of his head made Holly rather dizzy. "…okay?" It was more of a question then an answer. But Foaly took it as one.

"Great!" the centaur exclaimed happily. "How 'bout after lunch you come over here and I show you around my office?"

"Alright." She replied, despite Trouble's frantic mutterings. He sighed and mouthed 'later' when she looked at him questionably. Then he left the room, wincing after every few steps. She made a mental note to ask him about that.

"Well, you'd better get into Julius's office. He hates tardiness." She was about to ask who Julius was when she realized this must be Commander Root's first name.

"Right." She mumbled, a little down after remembering why she was there.

He grinned at her again, and trotted back to his Ops Booth. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door.

Or, she tried to. Apparently the door was the type you pull open, for some reason.

She thrust it open and hesitantly took a step in.

"KNOCK FIRST!" Wrong decision, apparently.

"Yes, sir." She replied blandly, not sure what to do. Should she walk back out and close the door, then knock? At the moment, though, she rather just stood there looking like a fool.

He stared at her blankly for a moment, apparently trying to remember who she was and what she had done to make him angry. _Yes, _Holly thought, _he's probably sent enough people in here just today for him to forget their personal details._

Then, unfortunately, he remembered.

"Short," he said, leaning forward in his chair. "Sleeping on duty, were we?"

The old Holly, the one with the hair, would've stayed quiet and taken her punishment. This new girl opened her mouth in protest.

"No, sir."

"Is there a reason why your eyes were closed?" Holly struggled with her words. If she told him the truth, he wouldn't believe her, say it was a lie or an excuse, and probably fire her.

"You caught me when I blinked, sir?" The second unsure question-answer for today. Caught by surprise, the Commander blinked at her incredulously.

"Really?" he said, with a touch of sarcasm laden onto his voice.

"Uh, maybe, sir?" This wasn't going too well.

"Short, if it weren't for your great piloting skills and potential to be in Recon, you wouldn't even have made it into the Academy."

Well, at least he sort of complimented her. And insulted her. "Er… yessir."

"I'll let you off with a warning this time, Short. But only because you're a girl. Now, I have to get back to work."

Holly gaped in outrage. "Wha—" But she was cut off by the Commander himself shooing her out of his room and closing the door.

Utterly offended, Holly made her way back to the commons, where she sat next to a rather smelly Trouble.

The other officers could practically feel the anger feeling off of her, and for a minute, nobody spoke.

Finally, Trouble spoke up rather indignantly. "Well?"

Everyone stared at him blankly. He rolled his eyes.

"Well, aren't you going to ask me why I'm like _this_?" He indicated towards his slightly damp clothes.

A moment was spent still staring, when Holly ventured, "Why are you like that?"

"I had to take my Academy finals again. You know, to make sure I was ready for the Recon job." And just like that, all of Holly's anger was forgotten.

Before getting into Traffic, you had to spend a grueling five months, dawn-to-dusk, at the Academy. You'd learn some interesting things like shooting and gymnastics, and some incredibly useless things, like polishing tinfoil hats. Some said it was a request of Foaly.

"And? What'd you get?"

He groaned. "I just _barely_ passed. I did well on the shooting, fair on the piloting, and horrible on the gymnastics. I couldn't even do a flip. I'm going to be sore for weeks." He waved his arms for emphasis, then winced at the pain.

"Well, at least you passed."

This seemed to remind her of something. "What was up with that episode with Foaly?"

"Foaly likes to take in the new kids." He shook his head. "It's insane, really. No one really puts up with him. They all leave within a week. Better just not to do it. I mean, he is a centaur, and a queer one, at that."

She thought about it for a second. Well, it couldn't be that bad. She could certainly deal with a centaur for more then a week, at least.

A grin spread itself out on her face. "How's about we bet on how long I can stay as his helper, or whatever?" The faces of the guys instantly matched hers. They loved to gamble. Of course, they were restricted from betting money, but there were many other things.

"I bet my entire Mud Man quarter collection that you can't stay longer then two weeks." A rather pudgy worker spoke up.

This turned a few heads. Mud Men quarters were extremely hard to get, since they were American and practically on the other side of the globe.

Trouble raised an eyebrow. "A little cocky, aren't we? I think the new girl can do it." He turned to smile at her, and Holly couldn't help feeling a swell of pride. "I bet my Recon uniform that she stays longer then three."

People were awed now. Trouble could always buy a new uniform if he lost, but then the lucky winner would have their very own Recon uniform. And they had to admit that was pretty cool. Not to mention Trouble giving up his uniform would get him in a little… well… trouble, and pretty much would also be betting his pride.

The faeries continued to make bets, and agreed that whoever had the closest number of days to however long she stayed would get the stuff. And by the end of lunch, it was a lot of stuff.

Now Holly had a few people stalking her, trying to win, and she had Trouble's pride resting on her also.

She began the walk to the Ops booth. And so, the bet would begin.

**END OF CHAPTER FIVE**

**Wow, it was pretty long. For the normal chapters of this story, I mean. Well, I thought it wouldn't end anywhere else. And I think (gasp) I might have an inkling of a plot! Moohaha! Well, hope you like!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I… am amazed. The sheer number of reviews I have for this story makes me stop and gawk. (tear)**

**And so, the same day that I posted the last chapter, I start writing this one. Very pleased am I. Why? Because the plot is starting to MOVE! WOOHOO! EVERYBODY CHEER! Therefore, this chapter is a little long.**

**Alright, the romance is going to start in this chapter. Hope it pleases y'all (I'm Texan, sorry), I'm not too good at writing romance. Makes me squirm. But overall, I'm happy with this chapter.**

**I found a couple mistakes. It says in one of the earlier chapters Root was a Captain before being promoted to Commander. Actually, he was a Major. Now Sool is a Major, some guy is a Captain, and Trouble is a normal Recon officer. A little hard to understand, but yeah.**

**And one itsy-bitsy note (nobody report me!) to FetishFemale: (whacks head) Mulch! I'll try to add him in sometime.**

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl.**

_**Haircut**_

**Chapter Six**

She entered the room warily; nervous for anything technological that might come crashing on her head. _Three weeks, _she told herself. _Just three weeks you have to stay, and then Trouble wins his bet. _

Out of nowhere, the energetic centaur came cantering out. He seemed euphoric that she had actually come.

"Now, what was your name?"

"Holly Short…"

"Okay. Well, I'm Foaly."

"I, er, knew that."

He beamed. "Well, yes, I suppose I'm rather famous, aren't I?"

Holly tried a half-smile, though she thought it felt more like a grimace. "So, what do you want me to do first?"

Foaly was mildly surprised by the question. "Do? Whatever you like, I suppose." Now it was her turn to be rather taken aback. She had assumed Foaly wanted people in his office to do chores and things for him.

"Well, then, I'd better give you a tour around the booth, shouldn't I?"

Holly looked around. The booth was just that… a booth. Every inch of wall that she could see had some sort of electronic screen on it, displaying every room in the building. It wasn't really very big. She sat down in a wooden chair in the middle, blinking from the sheer brightness of the computer lights.

"You know, that chair ejects its seat." Hearing this, Holly jumped right out of the chair, and began to stand awkwardly. Foaly watched her in amusement. "Here."

A panel opened on the ground next to Foaly's expensive centaur-rolly-cushiony chair. Out came a chair rather like it, except designed for an elf.

She sat down uneasily and waited. What for, she wasn't sure.

And suddenly in one fluid motion, her chair spun around. She shrieked and grabbed the handles of her chair, even though it was only a hundred-eighty-degree turn. This was doing nothing for her nerves.

Apparently oblivious to her discomfort, Foaly began to introduce her to his things.

"This is my main computer, from there I can access all the computers in Haven—but you probably don't want to hear about that." He added hastily. Holly blinked at him; you'd think he'd want to talk about his computers all day.

He continued to talk about his many inventions—Holly, actually, found the half-finished iris-cams rather interesting. He seemed to be eager about this too, and asked if she would like to stop by more often to see it progress. She agreed, if a little reluctantly.

Yet he seemed a little off-center and overzealously nice during the entire time, with an almost hunger for approval. It was only when she was about to get in bed and was in her deep-thinking mood when she realized why.

She realized why Foaly had been taking in the new kids. She realized why he had refrained from going on about his inventions.

He didn't want a servant or a slave—he wanted a friend.

And she, Holly Short, was staying with him for a bet. An unfortunately familiar feeling welled up in her gut: guilt. Her deep-hidden girl side couldn't help but feel shameful.

After a couple moments of thinking, she realized the answer was easy. She'd simply go through the bet and Trouble would win, then, if she liked Foaly's company enough, keep on visiting him.

Of course, then she'd have to explain that to the group, who no doubt think she'll stay three weeks on the dot to make Trouble win.

They would probably laugh at her. Think she was crazy, to befriend the centaur. Foaly teased many of the officers and was on good terms with a few, but she had just realized that he was truly lonely. Just another thing to go on her conscience.

And now she was torn. Torn between her desire to be accepted, and her sense of right and wrong, which was telling her that if they scorned her for making a friend, then they didn't deserve to be friends with her.

So Holly drifted off into a restless, turning sleep, haunted by dreams of indecision and contempt. Due to this, she was tired the next day, and almost got in trouble with one of the other Commanders. By the time it was lunch, she was rather crabby. And after work, she had to tell Foaly that she wasn't feeling well (people could tell just by looking at her), and couldn't make it to his office today. Yet apparently he hadn't even thought she would come back, and seemed happy that she would've come, had she been feeling better.

And that next day's evening was even worse. Why? Because Holly Short was going insane.

She didn't know why or how. Holly knew that she was an observant person naturally; it was another reason why she had passed the Academy. But this was going a little too far.

And it wasn't like it had started that day exactly, well, she didn't think it did, but it was all so very confusing, 'cause she knew it wasn't normal… and thinking about it just made it worse. Not to mention she didn't think wearing a hole in the floor with her pacing would help either.

At lunch that day, Trouble had decided to purchase the clam chowder for his meal. Again. Like for the past five or so days. And as Holly watched him, she noticed he kept his right elbow on the table, and moved it every five seconds or so. Plus, this one stand-out piece of hair kept coming out of where he tucked it behind his ear, and he stirred his soup five times before taking the first bite, and Holly thought, '_No, doofus, you're supposed to stir it six times like you do every day,' _and then it was '_How did I know that?' _and then she decided she was going crazy. People weren't supposed to notice these things.

So when he looked up when she was wearing this shocked expression on his face, and asked 'Is there something wrong?' and she realized there was this faint little crease between his eyebrows where he pushed them slightly together when he asked a question. So it wasn't really a big deal if she freaked and fell off her chair… right?

And it wasn't a big deal if she went home and every single movement or little habit of Trouble's kept popping into her head at random intervals… right?

She didn't really know the answers to any of those questions.

But what she did know was that if they didn't stop, Holly was seriously considering checking herself into a mental institution. Not to mention possibly suing Trouble Kelp.

**END OF CHAPTER SIX**

**What a way to end a chapter—with a random idea.**

**Now, I don't want to plead and ask for reviews, because I don't want to become one of those people who become obsessed with reviews. I like the writing better, and I plan to keep it that way. But if you could drop off a suggestion, a few comments, anything bad about my story at all, I would be honored. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm a little busy these days, with writing and school. I'm currently writing a novel, called Tunnels of Sunshine. A lot of my friends think I'm insane, to attempt to write a novel when I'm not yet 13. But this is what, my fifth try? Hopefully I'll finish this one. And that is my excuse to why I haven't updated as quick as I'd like.**

**I had to lock up my iPod to get myself to write this chapter. I hope you're happy. Do you know how _hard_ it is to survive without music?**

**And to Nathifa Femi, if you're still reading this, the thing that needs to be tweaked is voice. Voice is to me the most important thing in a story, and I can't say I have no voice, because I know I do. I just don't have much, which annoys me a lot. Ah well.**

**About two weeks have passed. Out of six months. That should give you an idea of how long this story will be.**

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl.**

_**Haircut**_

**Chapter Seven**

The next week and a half passed with Holly on what she believed was the very borderline between calamity and madness. Foaly and she had become pretty good friends—well, as good friends as two can get after a week and a half. Foaly was his normal annoying self and had grown out of being awkward and exceedingly nice. Truthfully, Holly liked him better this way.

She even found herself _dreaming_ about Trouble. Not really dreaming, just all of their interactions, playing themselves over and over again in her mind. It was as if someone had collected all of Holly's memories labeled 'Trouble', put them into a movie, then put them into perpetual motion. He was getting annoying.

Well, not Trouble exactly, she was beginning to think Trouble didn't have the ability or capacity to be annoying, but more her. She was getting annoying to herself, really. Their conversations all felt stupid, and she couldn't help thinking that she could've done better or something of the like. So one day, growing impatient without a cure to her nearly-psychosis state, she went to Foaly for help.

Not the brightest idea, perhaps, but it wasn't like she really had anyone else. Which, when she thought about it, was rather sad.

Walking into Foaly's room, she saw the centaur hunched over his computer, studying the screen and frowning slightly.

"What's going on?" she asked curiously, forgetting about her original reason that she was there for.

Startled, he turned to her, then back to his computer. "I think… it's just… it's not supposed to…"

She tapped her foot impatiently. "Well?"

"This officer on Sool's squad, number five, just… disappeared. I can't find him anywhere," he exclaimed heatedly, "if only my iris-cams were done!"

Holly thought hard. "Has his team found him?"

"Are you kidding? Sool's group couldn't find water in an ocean." Holly chuckled lightly at this. She had heard many stories about how nobody liked Sool. Trouble himself had some sort of major rivalry with him.

"Then what do you have to do?"

"By law, we can't do anything about finding him until about three days later, give or take. Unless we have proof that he is in danger, of course.It wouldn't be good if he just went on a potty break or something, and everyone panicked and sent out Retrieval," the centaur explained. Holly nodded for him to continue. That made sense.

"So in the meantime, we have to find a replacement officer from Traffic to be a substitute for the three days, and then after that, get a squad to go out and find the missing officer."

Her eyes had lost their focus after the word 'Traffic'. A replacement officer? Didn't that include her? So did that mean she could possibly be chosen to be in Recon for three, glorious days? She looked up at Foaly hopefully, trying to keep her face innocent.

He whinnied in amusement, already knowing what she wanted. "I can pull a few strings with the Commander to try and get you in, since I'm irreplaceable," he added smugly, "but they're all going to be leaning towards the other guy in Traffic, Vein." **(1)**

Holly knew Vein. He was a good friend of Trouble's. Would Trouble possibly get mad at her for taking his friend's spotlight away? Great. Just another thing to worry about.

"I'll try, anyway." Foaly continued. "At the very least I'll get your name higher with the bosses."

She smiled as warmly as she could manage. "Thanks."

Now as she walked down the hallway, thinking about all that had happened during these two longest weeks of her life, she happened to bump into that person. No, actually, not Trouble. Vein.

He grinned at her, and then grimaced. "Aw, man, I have to pay you now!" Holly was confused for a minute, and then remembered about the bet. He had bet on a week and a half, along with the quarter guy. Vein took out various items from his pockets, acorns, house keys, and money included. He really wasn't very organized.Then he took out a mini-portable television from his pocket. "I lost whatever I actually bet," he apologized, "but you can have this. I got used to Traffic weeks ago, you need it more then I do, being a newbie."

"Uh, thanks." She didn't have the heart to tell him that she'd never get to use it, since her assigned route to guard was where all the Commanders, Majors, and Council Members drove to work.

"Oh yeah, you might want to go collect your quarters." With that parting statement, he went off. She watched as Trouble and him met in the hallway, slapped each other's shoulders good naturedly, and walked off.

Great. Just great. What if Trouble decided that it was unfair that she had gotten in to the replacement spot, and deserted her? Then all the others would too, since they only hung out with her because of him. That would be horrible.

But for that to even have a chance of happening, she told herself sternly, you have to be chosen for the spot. And who says Foaly can actually get you in, anyway?

That afternoon, as she was about to leave, Foaly came running out happily.

"I did it!" he shouted, thankfully, there wasn't enough quiet for others to hear him. "You're going to be the replacement for the next three days!" He looked extremely smug enough already, but Holly thought it couldn't help to raise his ego just a teensy-weensy bit, for the sake of being nice. (She later learned, of course, that one must NEVER, NEVER help Foaly's ego on its way up.)

"Really? Thanks!" she exclaimed, though she felt an upraising feeling as well as a down-hearted one at the same time, making her feel rather light-headed.

"Yeah, come here and we'll get the papers filled out." On the way to the paperwork room (with many contracts about many random things included), he explained more of how he had gotten her in.

"They thought it'd be a good idea, to see how you, being, well, a girl, could do under actual pressure. I think half of them wanted to have a reason to boot you out, and the other half was genuinely interested."

She tried smiling, though she was too nervous.

Exhilarated and nervous, she signed the documents with a steady hand, but a shaky mind. Nonetheless, it would've been better to have it the other way around.

**END OF CHAPTER**

**(1)- Vein is not an OC. I make it a point not to have OC's in my stories. He's mentioned as the top Captain in the first book.**

**Ack, it's not much. But don't worry; I have some fun things planned out with Holly as a temporary Recon-er. Including Mulch, Trouble, and maybe even more Lili in a later chapter.**

**I'm laughing myself silly at a quote someone told me: "There are two kinds of people that I hate in this world: people who don't respect other people's cultures, and the _Dutch_." (cracks up) Paradoxes and hypocritical statements never fail to amuse me. And sarcasm.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Aww, man. My computer shut down! That means I have to write the whole frickin' chapter over again! Not to mention a couple separate one-shots. Sorry the update was slow.**

**I can't get online on weekdays anymore. So chapters will be longer (hopefully a couple hundred words more), but updated once a week.**

**A good book to read (I have to say this) is The Schwa Was Here by Neal Shusterman. It's got a dark edge to it, and his humor **almost** matches Colfer's. And that's saying something.**

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl.**

_**Haircut**_

**Chapter Eight**

The badge was shiny.

It was big, heavy, and reflected enough light to blind. And if that wasn't enough, it has 'REPLACMENT OFFICER' written in big yellow letters. Why, Holly had no idea.

The halls were full, and she crept past, trying not to be seen. She was already feeling traumatized enough. That morning, she had cleaned up the pile of hair. It had started to stink. Badly.

And it was rather disconcerting. But, of course, this was for, er, sentimental reasons.

She had felt disturbed after cleaning the hair up because she was throwing away something that meant a lot to her. Yeah.

It had nothing at all to do with the nest of cockroaches that had made their home there. After all, she _liked_ her room messy.

Some parts of her, she knew, would always be the same old girl. But a lot of her was changing. It was like being a wild card, doing things spontaneously and impulsively. She was witty and smart, and it was a lot of fun.

Honestly, she liked the new 'her' better. The old Holly was the girl-next-door type, only being classified as a friend of Lili. Now she was remembered, and it was enjoyable.

After knocking politely and being invited in, she sat down in front of Root's desk, awaiting instruction.

"Miss, uh," he checked her name tag quickly, "Short. The replacement officer, right."

So much for being remembered, she thought sourly. She was the only female, and he still had to check her name tag. He continued.

"Well, since there isn't really anything big right now, you'll be going around as police officers. Now, I have a meeting with a dwarf criminal, to squeeze a confession out of him. He's good, so if we don't get him to admit he did anything, we won't be able to get him thrown in jail.

"We barely have any proof, and he has a good lawyer. I won't be able to make it, so you're going to do it instead. Oh, and remember, this takes smarts." He glared at her. "You have to outsmart him to get him to confess."

Holly already knew this. "Yessir."

"The convict should be brought in soon, so you need to get over there."

"Over where, sir?"

But it was too late; the commander was busy looking for a piece of paper he seemed to have misplaced. When he found it, the first thing Holly noticed was that it was bright red.

She racked her brains as she left the room. There were special kinds of codes that were sent in color to commanders to signal emergency meetings. Blood red was, fittingly, murder. Neon red was something about Mud Men, and bright red was a major theft. There were many more, but that was all she could remember.

A major theft. The Commander was being called in for a meeting about some theft. This would be worth looking into later. She made a note about it.

But on to other things. Where would the convict be? She thought for a little bit. And then it hit her.

Oh, well _duh_.

The interviewing room. Holly didn't know the professional name for it, but when she passed by, there was always some dirty-looking guy in there that she took to be a criminal.

After a little bit of wandering, she was there.

Pushing the door open, she took a peek. There were a few guards around, mostly sprites.

And chained to a chair was the hairiest dwarf she had ever seen.

Well, it wasn't like she had seen many dwarves. So she couldn't really say anything. But this dwarf had hair all over his chin, and every individual one was sticking out and feeling all over the place.

He looked up, not realizing that she would be his interviewer. "Are you the snack lady?"

"No, actually. I'm your interviewer."

"Oh. A girl?"

"Do I look like a guy to you?"

"…No."

"Alright," she sighed, "Let's get this over with." Flipping through the dwarf's info, she discovered some interesting things.

They had recently discovered that this dwarf, Mulch Diggums, had been the dwarf behind many a crime. Not to mention lately he lost his magic. But the only witnesses they had were mind-wiped, and Mulch had a good lawyer that was in with many members of the Council. If they wanted to save themselves a lot of trouble, Holly needed to get this confession from him so Root could show it in court.

"Mr.… Diggums. You lost your magic?"

"Yup."

"How?"

"I, uh," he stopped, realizing that if he said he broke into a house, they had gotten him. He had to keep his innocent façade. After all, he hadn't been caught yet. "Not telling."

Well, he's smarter then he looks, certainly, Holly thought. "Why not?"

"It's very embarrassing."

"I won't tell."

Mulch inclined his head toward the guards. "They will."

She mentally growled in frustration. "Ever seen the inside of a Mud Man dwelling?"

He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "No."

"Then how'd you lose your magic?"

_Improvise_, Mulch thought. _Always_ _improvise_.

"Well, honestly, I was imprisoned and blindfolded by a Mud Man a long time ago. A past mission for you guys. One mind-wipe, really small, you probably have no record of it."

Drat. Dratdratdrat.

"Heard of the Mona Lisa? Supposedly this _really rich_ guy has it in his house."

The dwarf smiled. He remembered that house. "Yeah, it's—No. No, I've never heard of it."

Almost had him! She decided to try other tricks in that manner.

"Those Mud Men are such barbarians. You know they keep their toilets inside?"

"Oh, and you know what else they do? They--" He suddenly realized his slip-up and rushed to cover it up. "—freeze-dry their meat. I ordered some one time." He didn't know if it was possible for one to order Mud Man prepared meat, but judging by the look on the officer's face, it was.

Meat. He escaped her again. Not to mention he made her hungry, by reminding her that the last meal she had was meat for yesterday dinner.

Holly called the guard over. "I'd like a snack, please." She turned to Mulch. "What do you want? Something _small_."

Food. Now they were on a topic Mulch shouldn't have to be careful on.

"Great. I want some… hmm. I'm in the mood for some Mud Man food. Gimme some cashews. Cashews are good, especially the macadamia ones. Harrison Ford had the BEST cashews."

Then, of course, he realized what he practically admitted: that he had been in a Mud Man actor's home. "D'arvit." Mulch looked up.

Holly was grinning at him, disbelieving her luck.

**END OF CHAPTER EIGHT**

**Well, that didn't take too long. And I like this version of the chapter better. **


	9. Chapter 9

**I have really no idea how long this story's going to be anymore. I have the plot planned out, though, so I guess I'll just go with the flow.**

**I have this chapter late because of Hurricane Rita. I think it's a good excuse. No school today or tomorrow, though, so that's good.**

**If you want to use my version of crunchball (the game Holly played in the LEP), you're free to as long as I get some credit. I thought this was how the game should be played.**

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. I do, however, own my version of crunchball. Yay.**

**_Haircut_**

**Chapter Nine**

Holly led Mulch to the Commander's room, with the guard sprites trailing behind her. All of them were rather muscled, for sprites, anyhow. It was quite hard to navigate through the many hallways of the LEP building, however, because all of these sprites were introducing themselves to her, along with one or two random facts.

The one who called himself Hero (sprites are _so_ big-headed) was currently bragging about his collection of rare Mud Man artifacts or something of the like when she arrived.

"Alright, guys, I can take it from here." She gripped Mulch's collar harder to prove her point.

"Ouch." The dwarf himself had been much more sullen since his slip-up. This was good, because he was also much quieter.

"Quiet, you." Holly ignored his protests and dragged him into the office, where she could tell Commander Root that she did well.

The commander was still fussing over his red piece of paper. Not really fussing, more like sitting down and furiously reading the paper over and over again, trying to figure out the case.

"Uh, sir?"

He looked up.

"Ah, Short. What do you have for me?"

She took a deep breath. "Here's the tape, sir. Mr. Diggums openly confessed that he's been into a Mud Man dwelling."

"Openly?" Root surveyed the tape, interested.

"Well, not exactly openly. I sort of- tricked him out of it, if you will."

Mulch made some muffled noises, stifled by the shirt that Holly had such a good grip on. He probably was insisting that it had been a common mistake; that Holly hadn't even used any wit. Which, in a way, was true.

"Couldn't the convict say that he'd only been into one Mud Man dwelling and deny all the rest that we know he's ransacked?" Of course, the Commander already knew the answer to this. He was just testing her.

"Yes, but this house that he's admitted to is a famous Mud Man actor, and if the dwarf had been caught, the theft would've been all over the news very, very, quick. That alone should get him into a great deal of trouble."

The dwarf in question managed to get his oversized jaws around the shirt. "But I DIDN'T get caught!"

Both LEP workers ignored him.

Root nodded, pleased though he tried not to show it. "Good. I can use this to testify against him in front of the Council."

Holly let out a breath of relief. At least she'd done well on her first day as temporary officer, even if it was by pure luck.

"Go ahead and have the rest of the day off."

She gaped at him for a moment, furious. How could he—how did he—

The commander had just given him what a normal officer would want, any officer, in fact, except for her. She was a Recon worker, for three wonderful days. She _wanted_ to work all she could for those days. Did Root know what he had done?

Judging by the you-can't-do-anything-about-it smug look on his face, yes.

"I want my snack." Mulch spoke up again, annoyed at being talked about in third person.

"Tough luck, convict." The commander glared at him. "You've had all the cashews you're going to get for the next ten years, at least."

Dejected, Holly left the room. A hefty scowl weighed on her face as she made her way towards the Recon lounge. At least she could check it out before being placed back on Traffic.

The room was about ten sprillion times more luxurious then the Traffic one. Even more so, considering the Traffic workers didn't even _have_ a lounge.

The couches were of one color, a pretty green that went with the gray walls. Matching green counters were splattered around the room, displaying all sorts of delectable snacks. It was obvious that Council member Vinyáya had done the decorating.

But this wasn't what caught Holly's eye. Above the coffee machines was a large poster that said, in big red letters:

**CRUNCHBALL TRYOUTS TUESDAY AFTERNOON**

Which really made her happier then everything else that day.

Figures—the Recon workers put the signs up in the Recon only areas, thus not allowing the Traffic workers to know when the tryouts are, and therefore not being on the team. It was typical prejudice—or snobbishness, either or the other.

Crunchball—how could one even explain it? Crunchball was a sport, typically played by adults or rebellious teenagers. The rebellious teens usually realized just why it was played by adults, though. Kids play a easier version of it, called bounceball. In that, the ball was made out of sponge instead of aluminum.

Crunchball was played by three teams on a triangular field, each with nine players. The players started out in positions that together, looked like a giant arrow pointing towards their point of the triangle, where their goal was. First dunker, second dunker, and third dunker were the middle line in the arrow, first dunker being the closest to the center of the field.

First, second, and third right and left wingers, which went by (for example) FRW for First Right Winger, took their positions as the two slanted sides that made up the point of the arrow.

The ball was placed in the exact center, and when the game started, all three teams would rush towards the ball. Of course, if you were First Dunker, you'd get to the ball much faster. The Second and Third dunkers would follow close behind, and the wingers would spread out on their side (i.e. F**R**W to the right, S**L**W to the left) enemy goals.

When the dunkers get the ball, they would literally try to "crunch" it. Hence the name of the game. This would mean throwing the ball (it was made of a softer kind of aluminum and circular) anywhere, so it would flatten, making a sickening crunching noise. Anywhere means anywhere, so you could throw the ball at an enemy's skull and crunch it, and it'd count.

Then the 'crunched' ball would have to be thrown around (if you're skilled, the ball will be crunched into a Frisbee-like structure and easier to throw) to a winger, who'd score into an enemy's goal.

But anything can happen with a metal ball. There is no such thing as a 'red card' in Crunchball.

It really is a dangerous game-- and just Holly's type, too.

**END OF CHAPTER**

**Be nice in your reviews, please. It's rather hard to make up a game. Which is why it isn't a very _good_ game. Sorry if it doesn't make much sense, it should later on. I'll try to upload a pic or something onto my livejournal of the field, if enough people ask.**

**Oh, by the way, a red card is what players get in soccer for foul play.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Alright, I'm back. Sorry it took a little long, I had a math competition last weekend. Well, I had the chapter written up on Sunday, but I was at a friend's house and couldn't post it. And yesterday I just… forgot. I'm really glad y'all liked the game, 'cause it took me forever to make up.**

**But because this is late, the other chapter WILL be updated by Sunday. WILL.**

**Yes. For the answer to all of your questions, I did make up the game. You can't waltz outside and play crunchball and not look out of place. Unless, of course, you do weird things all the time. Then I can't help you.**

**Summary: After she gets into the LEP, Holly cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling to the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own.**

**_H_a**_i_r**_c_u**_t_ (tee hee, it looks funny)

**Chapter Ten (!)**

After work, she headed straight towards the men's locker room, waiting outside for Trouble. Their houses were pretty close together, so normally they'd walk together to the fork in their neighborhood. But today, she'd have to stay late for the tryouts.

He emerged from the room, looking rather tired and passing right by Holly at first. Suddenly, he seemed to realize so and turned around.

He smiled at her in ways of greeting. "What is it?"

She scowled back. "Can't I just wait for you? How do you know I need to tell you something?"

"I just _do_." Holly would never tell anyone, but she really felt pleased that he knew so much about her.

"Well, fine. I'm going to the crunchball tryouts and won't be able to walk with you."

His face lit up. "Crunchball? You're trying out?"

"Why? Are you?" Maybe things would be better if Trouble was also on the team.

"No, of course not," he shook his head slightly, "Crunchball is way too dangerous for me, but I love to watch it. I'll stay and watch the tryouts."

Her heart sank. Now she had a feeling that she was going to make a fool of herself. "Alright then, let's go."

They made their way towards the crunchball court (yes, there was one) and Trouble talked animatedly. She half-listened and half-watched him, drinking in his appearance and habits. Lately that was happening more often.

Holly noticed he talked more with his hands then other people, moving them about to express his words. She could also tell his accent was a little more inclined towards Australian then others, and mentioned this casually.

He seemed surprised that she'd noticed. "When I was really young, our family went to Australia, in a remote region with no Mud Men, only fairies, for vacation. My mother loved it so much; we didn't leave for about thirty years. The fairies there all spoke with an Australian accent, so I picked a little of that up. I guess it never really went away."

"That's cool." She stopped, right in front of the gym doors.

Suddenly she wasn't sure this was all worth it.

Trouble looked at her inquisitively. "Aren't you going to open the doors?" When she made no indication of responding (she was too deep in her own thoughts), he opened it for her.

They were a little early, and Holly parted with Trouble to go sign up. He went over to the section of the audience seating area that was being used.

She took a gulp and signed her name on the sheet. The coach (he was a pretty old guy, grayish hair but still looking fit) looked at her strangely, probably wondering why this _girl_ was trying out. Well, she'd show him. She'd show all of them.

Feeling a bit more determined, she took her place standing next to the other people who were trying out.

Since they didn't know what position you'd be good at, they started you out with the basics. There were tasks you'd do, and the judges would see how good you were. The tasks were throwing hard balls at targets and cracking the balls, throwing balls into moving baskets, running at full speed, dodging, tackling, and catching.

Holly wasn't pretty good at most of it, except for the catching and the tackling. She couldn't catch for anything (it was like the ball just slipped out of her hands), was too small to really tackle, but could run rather fast.

She looked around at her competitors. She only knew a few, like this one guy who looked like he was half troll. He was huge, looking about four feet tall—and had the shoulder width of Holly's height. Or at least, that's what it looked like. With his small feet, it looked like he was a walking upside-down triangle. A rather funny picture, if you weren't intimidated by the sheer humongous-ness of him.

Finally, they started to play a short scrimmage. Holly was placed as SRW, or second right winger.

The whistle blew. All three team's dunkers ran towards the ball, glaring furiously at each other. The big guy (Holly then decided to call him the Hulk) got there first and simply lifted the ball up into the air, where nobody could reach it. Holly chuckled lightly as she sidestepped over to the right goal, where she'd wait to score.

Since the Hulk wasn't on her team, she watched apprehensively as he looked for somewhere to throw the ball. Actually, he was quite smart, as big guys go. He finally decided on one of Holly's team-mate's head.

It hit with a sickening 'crack', and Holly winced. The elf slumped to the floor, and as soon as the mob was gone (chasing after the Hulk), some medics dressed in purple scurried out on the field to take the poor thing.

This went on for a while, with the score still zero-zero-zero. The coach's finally decided it'd be first score wins. Holly had actually gotten a few good shots, but the Hulk somehow always managed to get in front of the goal. And when he was in front of the goal, he blocked the whole thing and the crunched ball simply bounced off him. It didn't even leave a mark.

And suddenly, finally, the Hulk put them all out of their misery and scored. Holly trudged out of the gym, exhausted and sore. She was bleeding in several places from the crunched ball hitting her.

Trouble caught up to her, smiling. "You did great! I can't say you were the very best, since that big dude swept everyone, but you were still great!"

She smiled back, too tired to sleep. Trouble kept on talking.

"Wow, you look horrible, no offense. Let's get you to the medics."

He led her there, and when she finally came to rest outside the medic door (Trouble had to leave and there was a pretty long line, not surprisingly), her heart was beating pretty fast—from the exertion, and something else.

**END OF CHAPTER TEN**

**Woohoo, chap ten is DONE! Hope you like it… and if you have suggestions for Recon team's names, please tell me!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Alright, it's not Sunday. Somebody whack me. But hey, at least I updated! I did brainstorm for a while though, so I have a much clearer idea on how this story will go.**

**100 reviews. Wow… wow. I never expected this story to get halfway that far. For that, the chapter is dedicated to Nathifa Femi, 100th reviewer. And refloc, for reviewing every single chapter.**

**This chapter is so packed with information that I had to open up all ten past chapters and use them for reference. And I put my iPod on LOTR for extra inspiration.**

**My birthday's on Friday! I'm turning 13. Yeah, thirteen. Wow.**

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. Eoin Colfer does.**

_**Haircut**_

**Chapter Eleven**

Second day of Recon. Already. Just two more days until she'd be back to boring old Traffic, back to her normal schedule.

Holly utterly hates 'normal'. You know exactly what's going to happen, when it's going to happen, and how to prepare. 'Normal' takes all the fun out of life. 'Normal' is just that… so normal.

And currently, Holly was waiting in Root's office for something to do. All the other Recon members already had longstanding missions, and since she was new (in a matter of speaking) she didn't.

She had walked in on Root conversing with two other Council members—two people she didn't know. They all had serious expressions on and were talking in even more serious tones. But when Holly made her presence known with a slight cough, the two others quickly made themselves scarce.

"Ah, Officer Short. Sit down and I'll tell you what you're supposed to be doing."

Holly had only been in the LEP for two weeks, but she knew that it was better to do what your Commander tells you, even if he tells you to sit down when you're completely sore from yesterday's crunchball tryouts. So she did.

"Right, Officer Short. This is what you'll be doing."

She leaned forward eagerly. She was rather interested in that bright-red envelope that had been worrying all the Commanders lately.

But his hand passed right over the envelope, and picked up a bright yellow piece of paper.

Seeing her grimace at the neon color, he simply muttered, "Foaly."

This was explanation enough. Foaly always had a thing for color.

Her disappointment at not getting the big mission was quickly evaporated as she read what was on the paper. Root began talking.

"You will take Officer Shrub's place as number Five on the Recon Squad tomorrow. The mission: to find Shrub. Tomorrow, the three days will be up and we will be able to go find him, getting you back to Traffic."

Holly nodded. Maybe she'd have to go back to Traffic, but she'd get to go on a real Recon mission before leaving.

"He disappeared not that far off, just by the chute. Today your job is to investigate his friends, family, and work area, whatever. We don't know if he's been kidnapped or what."

Of course. Standard procedure.

"Then tomorrow, I expect you to be at the chutes, fully clothed and ready for a possible all-day mission, at 0500 hours. Are we clear?"

"Yessir."

"Good. Now shoo."

Holly took the dismissal gladly, eager to get to work. Investigating was always fun. If Holly hadn't become a LEP worker, she would've wanted to be some sort of P. I., or Private Investigator.

She skimmed the papers quickly. One Victor Shrub, husband of Emily Shrub. Good friends: Victoria Calendula, wife of Marcus Calendula… she stopped there. Those were his two best friends, and plus, she didn't honestly want to make friend and family calls. She'd much rather just stick to rummaging through his desk or something.

Opening Shrub's door quietly, she peeked in. The room was _neat_. As in _neatneatneat_. Papers were filed, the clean chair was pushed into the sparkling desk, and everything was in perfect order.

Where to look first?

She started out with the desk, careful (but not _too_ careful) to not let anything get out of order. All she found were notes on missions and some personal letters.

The mission notes were basic; in graphs and orderly, like everything else. This seemed like a man who could be promoted to Commander one day.

She found some notes from the mission he was working on when he disappeared. It was a basic runaway elf, hiding on the surface. There wasn't really that much too it.

Holly frowned slightly; sure this had to be something more then a simple mission. A personal letter suddenly caught her eye. It was a short note to a friend. A couple words intrigued her, and despite her strict ethics she began to read.

_Dearest Victoria,_

_Emily does not suspect anything, thank Frond. We should meet at the same time tonight to discuss next week's plan._

_When this is done, love, we won't have to worry about Emily, or Marcus… we'll be free. Everything will work out as planned._

_Love,_

_Victor_

Holly leaned back in Shrub's chair as the words sunk in. Emily and Victor were married… so were Victoria and Marcus… and Victor and Victoria were having an affair! She quickly checked the date on the note.

A sharp intake of breath.

The note was dated one week before the disappearance. Victor and Victoria had run off together—Victoria as the elf who escaped to the surface, Victor as the LEP officer who went to retrieve her but got lost.

And now they'd both have to be arrested for living on the surface without permission. So that meant Recon would have to find them—which will be a lot harder since they aren't just lost—they don't want to be found.

Taking the note and the mission graphs, she stood up to take the news to Root's office. Next she'd have to make a house call to Emily and see if she thinks this affair could've possibly happened.

Holly glanced down at the note declaring Victor and Victoria's love.

People could be so _stupid_ sometimes.

**END OF CHAPTER ELEVEN**

**Whew. Glad that's over. I don't like OC's, but you must agree that these were necessary. Can anyone guess where I got the names Victor, Victoria, and Emily from? Anyone at all?**

**Just to clear things up, I'll have a few plots in this story:**

**MAJOR PLOT: You should know this by now, but I'm not giving it away.**

**MAJOR PLOT: Holly's growing relationship with Trouble.**

**MINI-PLOT: The search for Shrub**

**MINI-PLOT: Slight discrimination against Foaly (hey, it has to exist).**

**MINI-PLOT: Crunchball tournament.**

**And that's all so far. Romance is haarrdd to write. Next chapter—Foaly'll be back.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Yay! A few of you got it! The names Victor, Victoria and Emily are from Tim Burton's Corpse Bride. Which is a really good movie.**

**I spent all weekend studying for a quiz (and then I totally blanked out and failed it… but that's not the point), so I couldn't update. But I am now.**

**I had an inspiration rush and planned out a lot. This chapter was fuuun.**

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. Eoin Colfer does.**

_**Haircut**_

**Chapter Twelve**

Commander Root sat down and rubbed his temples with his knuckles. A love affair? People could be so _stupid_ sometimes.

"Alright, go call his wife. See if she's noticed anything unusual. If she has, we can set this theory in stone and start preparing for tomorrow's trip."

"Yessir." Holly swiftly left the room, eager to get out of there. She pushed her way through the crowds of people chatting and loitering, until she heard someone call her name.

"Holly!"

Trouble ran up to her, dodging people and trying to catch her attention. "Holly, hold up!"

She waited patiently, trying not to get run over by the (rather smelly) Recon officers.

"Have you been to the lounge yet?" He started leading her towards the place in question; as it was the nearest empty place they could talk in.

"No, I haven't. Why?"

He grinned, and Holly noticed he was about three inches taller then her. "The crunchball team members are posted."

She jumped. "Really? Well? What happened? Who made it?" The questions jumped out of her before she could even think.

"D'you really think I'd be this happy if you didn't made it?"

Resisting the urge to squeal, Holly tried calming down. "And? What position?"

"Second dunker."

Calming down didn't work—she started to hyperventilate. "But that's one of the best positions on the team!"

"Yup. Second only to first dunker—who's that big guy. Y'know, the one that's… big?"

The big guy who's big, Holly thought wryly, Trouble's got his own way of putting things. It sounded like the Hulk, as she had dubbed him at the tryouts.

Lost in thoughts, Holly almost walked into the lounge as Trouble opened the door for her, until she realized that he had stopped short.

She followed his eyes, and froze also.

The only people in the lounge were Lili Frond and Vein, arms wrapped around each other so tightly you could barely tell who was who. They didn't even acknowledge Holly and Trouble's presences.

But what startled Holly most was the uniform Lili was wearing. It was the standard Traffic uniform. As if that didn't surprise her enough, the uniform wasn't even that standard.

It was dyed pink.

So Lili had joined the LEP. She's taken her feminist standards to an all new level, thought Holly. She doesn't possibly think she could get anywhere acting like such a… bimbo, does she?

And along with this feeling of shock was a slight hurt of betrayal. She couldn't help but feel rather upset that Lili would go this far—and become her competition, even though Holly knew she had directly brought this on herself.

Trouble reacted first, and quickly slammed the door shut. They stood there like that for a few moments, Trouble faintly blushing and Holly lost in thought, when he spoke up.

"I don't have anything to do today, what do you have?"

This snapped her out of the clouds. "I have to make a house call to the wife of the guy I'm replacing."

"Oh. Mind if I tag along? You can use the phone in my office."

"Sure, that'll work."

They walked in silence once more, this time to Trouble's office.

"Looked like he was eating her face, didn't it?" she commented matter-of-factly.

He snorted, and then started laughing. "I guess it did."

And like that, the ice was broken.

"What's your real name?" she asked suddenly. "Trouble can't have been it forever."

He fidgeted. "I don't really like it."

"What could it be, Larva?" Holly chuckled slightly, thinking of Trouble's younger brother, Grub.

"No, that's my mother's name."

"Larva? Really?"

"Yeah."

Silence, for a few seconds.

"Are you serious?"

"Nope." Holly made a 'phew' motion, and Trouble laughed again.

He graciously held the door open for her, and she curiously looked around his relatively new office.

Everything was… neat. That was the only way to put it. Things were organized, stacked up in little piles in noticeable places, you name it. Holly knew that if this was her room, she wouldn't be able to find _anything_.

"It's… trim." Was all she had to say.

"Isn't it?" He looked proud of himself for keeping it this orderly. It was certainly more then any other Recon officer was able to do.

She nodded and picked up the phone, dialing in the phone number. Trouble sat down in his swivel chair and watched her curiously.

A pretty-voiced woman answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Er, hi, this is Holly Short, an associate of your husband, Victor Shrub. This is Emily Shrub, right?" Trouble quietly pressed the speaker phone button so he could listen in.

"Yes, this is she. You wanted to speak to me about Victor?"

"Yeah, um, have you noticed anything strange before he disappeared?"

"Actually," she seemed a little hesitant, "I have. He seemed to be going out drinking more with Mr. Calendula. Sometimes he'd stay out all night."

Holly wasn't sure how to put this. "Are you sure it was _Mr._ Calendula he was out with?"

Her voice suddenly went cold. "What are you implying?"

Taken aback, Holly searched for words to say. "Er, nothing, I meant nothing." Trouble started mouthing words at her and she obediently followed his directions.

"You wouldn't happen to have seen Mrs. Calendula out lately, have you?" They had to make sure that Victoria was actually missing.

"The Calendulas are more of Victor's friends, not mine. Now if you excuse me, I have things to do." She hung up.

Shocked and insulted, Holly sighed briefly before digging out the Calendula number. Trouble watched her silently, seeming to be arguing with himself in his head. What about, Holly couldn't guess.

The phone rang a few times, and Holly watched him warily, wondering what he was thinking about. So she was a little lost in thought when the current resident answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Um, er, well, is this Marcus Calendula?"

"Yes, it is."

"Uh, this is an associate of your friend, Victor Calendula, and for confidential reasons we'd like to know… is your wife there?"

"Victoria? No. She's on a vacation, I think. Something around that."

"All right, that's all I needed to know. Thanks."

Hanging up the phone, she turned to look at Trouble. "Well, I guess I'd better go report to Root then."

He gave a small smile. "Yeah, he hates it when you're late."

Feeling rather awkward, they exchanged their goodbyes and Holly walked out the door.

"Holly, wait!" He called her back.

She turned around and looked at him questioningly.

"My name… it's Phillip."

**END OF CHAPTER TWELVE**

**Whoo, that was fun. Yay, it's written! Hope you all like! Before you all kill me about the name, I thought it was appropriate for him. I don't know why. Well, elf names are supposed to be rather natury, right? Phillip means "lover of horses", so that's… natury, I guess.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Whee, an action (ish) scene! This was interesting to write. Now a couple of review responses. Only ONE, actually, so you can't report me or anything.**

**  
Wing Pikepaw: Ack. A mistake. I hate mistakes. Well, I suppose they happen. Someday I'll have to go back and fix that… keyword being someday. Ugh.**

**Thanks to all the other reviewers!**

**I'm not really happy with this chapter, so I reviewed it an extra day more and just made it longer to compensate for the lateness.**

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. Eoin Colfer does.**

_**Haircut**_

**Chapter Thirteen**

"Alright. Do we have our basic supplies?"

There was a chorus of 'yes' from the other four. Holly nodded shortly. She was feeling a little out-of-place in the organized Recon team.

"Weapons?"

A quick rushing to pick up forgotten guns was made. Maybe not too organized.

"Permits?"

A permit was needed to be on the surface. Recon members had them by default, but there always was that clumsy member that forgot it.

"Have we done our warm-ups?"

The officers looked at each other awkwardly. Four shouted, "But I don't _wanna_!", and was ignored by everyone. Apparently he was like that all the time.

"Thought so. Start now."

Sighing resignedly, they started to stretch. Holly listened carefully as the leader, number One, spoke. She didn't want to miss anything. With a pang, she realized this would be her third and last day as a Recon officer. Then it'd be back to boring old Traffic.

"We're searching for Officer Shrub, number Five. Tall, dark red hair, built like a LEPRecon." He chuckled slightly. "Accompanied by one Victoria Calendula, small, light red hair, feminine. Located just a little bit off of where our pod comes out. We need both."

Number Six fell on his backside while trying to touch his toes and One ignored him.

"Our prime mission is to quietly convince the two to come back. We are not, that's ARE NOT, to get violent unless they continue to protest or get violent first." He glared in particular at number Three, who fidgeted under his hard gaze. It was obvious this group was not trained at all, which was probably why this strict leader was chosen to put them in their places.

"Now, to the pod."

The pod was one of the largest Holly had ever seen, before only being allowed out to perform the Ritual, and that was only after graduation, when the students were deemed responsible enough to use magic. Holly could still remember the day she planted her first acorn and felt the accompanying burst of magic that rushed through her. It was the happiest day of her life.

All six of them were able to fit in the pod, One and Two taking the pilot and copilot's seats, respectively. Holly was stuck with the grumbling other three, who liked to push each other (and Holly) around, just for kicks. Fun.

Not to mention when they got to the surface, they all scrambled out at once. It was a while before they were organized and ready.

One looked tired and pretty irritated. "Alright," he said again, "we're already behind schedule. I want you all in pairs, moving out in different directions. We can communicate easily with our electrical equipment," here he pointed at Foaly's devices in their ears, "and your suits have tracking devices. We'll alert you when the search is over and you have maps, so you shouldn't get lost."

He said this all quietly, but his tone of voice implied _Do this right, OR ELSE!_

The pairs were as follows: One and Six, Two and Five, Three and Four. The less competent were paired up with the more, so it was more or less balanced. More or less.

Two nodded at Holly. "Five." There was an empty silence, as if he was going to add _replacement_ after.

She responded with a likewise "Two."

It was quiet between them, Two taking off into the forest and Holly following close behind. It was obvious that he and One were the most skilled at this job.

It was like that for a while, both of them silent and watching around them. It seemed like it had been forever before something happened.

A man emerged from the bushes, with a large Neutrino slung over his shoulder, and picking berries from a bush. They all froze. The man, after glancing at the Recon badges on their chests, turned around and ran.

Holly took out her gun and set it to the 'stun' option, but Two stopped her.

"We're not supposed to resort to violence, remember?"

She would've protested that stunning was not necessarily _violent_, but he ran off after the man they both were sure was Officer Shrub.

Two was already long gone by the time she ran up. Her hands immediately went up to activate her headphone, and she pressed one of the buttons on the back of it.

"Hello?"

There was a pause, for a moment. "Holly?"

"Foaly!" She must've pressed the button to get right to the centaur. "I lost my partner."

"Yeah, I've been watching you. He's still chasing the guy, I think. Anyway, he's moving forward pretty fast. Go north for a while, that's to your right…"

Holly continued to listen to him, moving forward as fast as possible. Suddenly, One's voice cut through Foaly.

"Two's spotted Shrub! I repeat, Shrub's been spotted! Everyone go to these coordinates…"

She switched him off, already knowing this information.

Running towards her destination, she passed by a clearing. In it were a few trees, a pretty landscape, and… a house? She stopped short and turned around.

Yes, it was a house. She could see a figure that she swore was Victoria through the window. Actually, she was positive.

Cautiously, she walked to the door and knocked. She almost knocked it down instead, but remembered the 'no violence' rule.

A pause, then Victoria opened the door, expecting to see her husband.

She was in for a right shock. When she saw Holly, she froze. Her eyes traveled to her LEP badge and she paled. When she saw the gun hanging at her hip, she screamed.

Turning to run away, Holly grabbed at her wrist.

"Holly! No violence…" Foaly's teasing voice sounded in her ear. She growled and let Victoria go.

Seeming to feel better now that she was freed, Victoria stood up straight and spoke; her voice firm and resolving.

"Where is my husband?"

Holly scowled. "Your husband, _Marcus_, is down in Haven worrying about you."

She glared back. "I meant Victor."

"He's currently being chased down by the rest of us."

A gasp was heard, and Victoria looked like she had no idea what to do.

"So, are you going to come back to Haven quietly?"

Victoria kept quiet, smashing her lips together like she wanted them to disappear—that way, she wouldn't have to answer Holly's question.

"I will… do what Victor decides to do."

Holly resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Then she thought twice, and actually _did_ roll her eyes. This woman was totally dependant on her husband.

"Okay, then follow me back to the ship, at least, so we can wait for the rest of the men to come back with him."

And speak of the devil—suddenly One's voice resonated through her ear extremely loudly.

"FIVE!"

"Yessir?"

"Why aren't you with us? We had to capture Officer Shrub without you!"

"I found Victoria, sir."

A pause. For a moment, Holly thought he was actually going to congratulate her. Only for a moment, though.

"Great job, Five, you managed to find a wimpy girl." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Bring her back to the pod area, pronto."

She tried to turn him off and messed with the buttons on the back of her speaker, but it didn't work. Instead, she had numbers one through six, excluding herself, chattering in her ear.

"Did you SEE how we took him down? It was awesome!"

"Yeah, Six, we asked him nicely to come to the pod. Amazing."

"It was! He listened to us!"

"Of course he listened to us—we had guns, he didn't!"

"It's HAVE. We HAVE guns. It's not HAD because we still have the guns now—"

"Whatever, Two."

Having given up on turning the volume down, Holly took out the piece and threw it into her pocket. She looked around to make sure Victoria was still there—she was, standing behind her and apparently trying to make herself disappear, by the way she was sinking to the ground.

They stayed like that: quiet, for a little ways longer before they reached the pod area.

She was greeted with a couple nods in her general direction—though she wasn't really sure if they were to her or Victoria.

Now was the part that they had to convince them to come down quietly, or threaten them to come down, or else.

Needless to say, it was rather easy job. Victor turned out to be an obsessive-compulsive person, and had to have everything just right—which was why he was promoted to Recon in the first place. He was also rather neurotic, and scared out of his wits when he realized him and his wife were outnumbered rather badly.

He agreed to come down immediately, and his wife reluctantly approved.

Sooner then it seemed possible; they were down in Root's office, finalizing the information.

The Commander seemed rather pleased.

"So," he said, running his finger down the list of events they gave him, "Victoria buys a small cottage from her half-brother, plans the trip with Victor, and sneaks out on the cover that he was going on a personal Recon mission." He looked over the notes. "And we have proof."

Standing up, Root fixed his commander's uniform up so he'd look presentable for the Council.

"All right, you all. I have a few things to say." He took a deep breath. "Lousy teamwork, inappropriate use of equipment, carelessness with said equipment, and overall rather pathetic for a Recon team." A growl was heard. "But somehow, by some work of some god in some place, you got the job done. I should fire you all, but then I'd have to take even more useless people as my officers." He glared at them all, a sign that they should leave.

"Oh, and Miss Short?"

She turned around, hand reaching up to her badge and taking it off, quietly placing it in the commander's outstretched hand.

It was back to boring old Traffic.

**END OF CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

**Ok, really really rushed, but I'm gonna be away from home the whole weekend. Hope to update on Monday!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Did I say "Hope to update on Monday!"? Arghh. The Austin trip took longer then expected. Much longer then expected. Not to mention the food was nasty. Iced tea at every meal—and no real sugar or lemons. Only those el cheapo little packets filled with Sweet 'N Low. Yechh.**

**This is the part where you all shout things like "EXCUSES!" and "LIAR!" or "PROCRASTINATOR!" even maybe "JUST GET TO THE CHAPTER!"**

**I shall oblige. By the way, this chapter skips about a week of 'boring old Traffic', because I'm sure you all won't mind terribly.**

**I know you all think the party makes them sound like teenagers, but I figure they mature slower—besides, their parents are still around and well to make sure they don't do anything wrong. Except for Holly, but her parent's story will come out later.**

**I didn't get online ALL YESTERDAY. I'm so proud of myself. Though I think I'm suffering from withdrawal. **

**A Tolkien and Harry Potter reference in this chapter.**

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. Eoin Colfer does.**

_**Haircut**_

**Chapter Fourteen**

Holly was currently at Trouble's house, at a guy party, infested with guys everywhere—watching Haven crunchball on a large screen, having fake fights on the ground, and some even drinking, though Trouble really was against it.

The cool thing about his house, though, was that he lived with his dad. Well, technically he lived with his entire family—his mom and Grub lived in the wall connecting the duplex.

Apparently Grub and Trouble got into so many fights that the parents had to split them up.

But his dad was away—his job was a Mud Man item dealer. He traveled to conference-type things around Haven to see if Mud Man items were genuine, and bought and sold those items.

So on the other side of Trouble's house, beyond the partying and the laughing Recon and Traffic officers, was an entire museum of surface items.

And Holly was itching to see them.

She had been curious about Mud Men ever since her surface expedition. They had bathrooms _inside!_ No way. If the Mud Men were barbaric enough to keep the toilet inside the house, then who _knows_ what else they'd be crazy enough to do.

New cultures were always exciting. When Holly was barely in school, she had visitors from another part of Haven—a far off, desolate place. And they were so strange! They'd eat healthy things for lunch, like fruits and vegetables, when most young elves would take the lunch opportunity to pig out on whatever junk food they could get their small hands on. Not to mention their strange accents—like they had been speaking one language far too often.

But _anyway_, here Holly was, quite bored and quite anxious to see those famous Kelp 'artifacts', as people liked to call them.

She checked her watch impatiently. It had been a whole two hours since the party started, and this was the point when Holly decided it wouldn't be rude to ask to go see them. Making her way through the turbulent crowds, she started to search for Trouble.

Of course, this was easier said then done. Since all elves had red hair and dark skin, she went around for a good ten minutes poking all the elves in the back. Luckily they weren't _all_ elves—Trouble had some sprite and pixie friends too.

"Trouble? Is that you?" she asked for what seemed the fifty-billionth time.

This time, it was Vein who turned around, and there seemed to be a very awkward silence in the room—though everyone was hustling and bustling about them. It was obvious Vein now knew that it was Holly and Trouble who had seen him and Lili in the Recon room… and he apparently wasn't as proud about it as Lili was.

Finally, he mumbled something and turned back to his drink.

Holly faintly wondered what it was (the drink)as she turned back to the (never-ending) task of finding Trouble.

But though she also had red hair and nut-colored skin, she stood out rather drastically in the room full of males. One sprite in particular singled her out, buzzing over to him with his feet barely skimming the ground and his bright red windbreaker flapping as he flew over. Sprites were like that—once they get their wings it's all "Feet? What feet?"

"Hey, lady. What's your name?" She growled inwardly. The last thing she needed—some guy trying to woo her while she searched for her friend. Even better, she couldn't even tell if he was drunk or not. The swagger of a walk and cheery attitude made it seem so, but then again, he could be just dumb.

"Holly Short."

He nodded, trying to seem like he had some sort of perception but failing miserably—the buzzing of his wings just made him look like a moron. Like he noticed, though.

"So, Holly, why'd you single me out? What do you want with Chix Verbil?"

She tried to point out that it was _him_ that had approached _her_, but she never got the chance. He just kept on talking and talking…

"Do'ya know why they call me Chix, Holly?"

"No," she answered halfheartedly, "I don't."

"Because the chicks dig me! Hahaha!" Now, Holly thought dryly, he's either really drunk, or really stupid.

Finally, she caught a glimpse of red hair –again—that could only be Trouble. She hoped.

"Trouble! Over here!" she shouted, hoping he'd hear her—and that it really was him.

Fortunately for her, it was. He came over, grinning. "I could recognize your voice from all over the 'plex, considering it's the only female one in here." Holly inwardly cackled when the smile became more of a forced one—he had spotted Chix.

"Oh. Hello, Verbil."

The sprite pouted. "Aw, dumping me for an _elf_? I mean, look at him, Holly, he's walking Trouble!" While Chix was left laughing (hard) at his own joke, Holly pulled Trouble away. As quickly as possible—she didn't want to see Chix (or his flashy Mud Man windbreaker) again.

"What was it that you wanted, Holly?" She looked up at him. He didn't look mad, to her relief, or annoyed, just curious.

"Well, I kind of wanted to see the Mud Man items." His expression cleared at once. "Why didn't you ask before?" He laughed when she tried to stammer out that it would've been rude, and simply led her to the room in the very back of the duplex.

"Really, Trouble, I didn't really envision you as the 'party at my house' type of guy. Which is rather strange, because I usually have correct assumptions about people."

"That's because I'm not a 'party at my house' type of guy."

"Then… why the party at your house?"

He shrugged. "The rest of us guys plan the party, pick the most appropriate house, meaning the one with no strict rule people around, and invite people by word of mouth."

"And your house is the most appropriate?"

A bright grin was flashed her way. "Yup. My parents hear the party starting, and take Grub to the other half of the duplex. Luckily, the walls are rather soundproof for being so skinny."

They had arrived at the back room. Trouble wordlessly let her in.

There were strange things scattered all over the room. A lot of the items resembled certain things that they had in Haven (like the phone—except in Haven _all_ phones are wireless), but a lot of the items were so, well, colonial-like that none used them below the lithosphere. Well, a lot of the middle-class people used them because they believed it gave their houses a better 'feel', and the poorer people used them because they had no other choice. There were basics that everyone had, though, like a computer and phone and such.

"A _lamp_?" Holly laughed, and pulled at the lace string fondly, turning the light on and off. "They still use these?" Down in Haven, energy was taken from the center of the earth to power everything in the city. Scientist had proven that there was enough energy down there to spare--- of course; everybody knew that, it just looked nice on the front page. Front page of the online news, of course, newspapers were inky and took time and energy to dispense.

Trouble nodded. "They use a lot of old things. It was only a century or two ago that they got electricity."

The pair laughed at the sheer absurdity of being without electricity. Electricity powered their every need, almost—having everything depend on electricity would of course make the People feel like they completely relied on it, which would make it seem like they weren't independent. Appearances could be very important.

They went on in the room, laughing more at certain things. For one, the large collection of books. Elves being tall and fair _indeed_. Holly chuckled when she imagined Foaly living in a forest (without any computers), gazing in the sky and commenting on how bright Mars was.

And she explored the computers for a while. Who uses dial-up nowadays? Other then the people in the ghettos, of course.

"Holly, come over here, I want to show you something."

She left the long antenna to see him. "What is it?"

"You'll love it—it's these Mud Man guns that use really large bullets… they don't even stun… oh, wait, they're not here." He frowned slightly. "That's strange, I saw them here about a week and a half to two weeks ago."

Holly shrugged and went back to the old-fashioned technology. She couldn't wait to tell Foaly about this.

Finally, Trouble proudly uncovered a dusty item under a gray sheet of paper.

It was a piano. Not the pianos that the People used, electrical ones that you could fold up and put in your pocket, but a classic one with the strings and the heavy buttons. The one that you can't put into your pocket.

"Whoa," Holly said, her fingers tracing the letters and trying to rub off the dust, "this must be pretty old."

"No, actually, it's only from a couple years ago."

She looked at him incredously. "They don't have electrical keyboards?"

He half-shrugged. "Well, they do, but the Mud People buy the wood ones anyway. Claim they have more of a 'natural sound', whatever that means."

"Right. Can you play anything?" she asked, just out of curiousity.

"Well, just that Mud Man child's song." There are a lot of Mud Man children's songs, but Holly immediately knew what he was talking about. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. That song was a favorite around elfish children who hadn't gotten up to the surface to get their first magic yet.

Sincechildren hadn't been up to the surface, they hadn't seen the sky—or the stars. And of course, every little child wants to hear about the stars… henceforth 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' was a big hit. Companies translated it into hundreds of different languages so youngPeople could practice their gift of languages. Most of the People had the lyrics imprinted in their minds.

An unasked question hung between them for a moment, before Trouble sighed and sat down at the large piano, looking rather small in its shadow.

**END OF CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

**Uck, it seems like one of those filler chapters. Please tell if you like.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hopefully this chapter will make up for last time's filler… because something actually happens here.**

**Well, I watched one little episode of Smallville and got totally hooked. My dad bought all four seasons and so far, I'm on the second season, episode 20. Pretty good, considering I've only been watching a week. Heh. I even started sleeping in front of the couch next to the TV. **

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. Eoin Colfer does.**

_**Haircut**_

**Chapter Fifteen (never really thought I'd get this far)**

Apparently, Recon was in big trouble—or something of the sort. After all, it wasn't every day the Commanders gathered in the commons to make an announcement. And it wasn't often that they all wore serious expressions _at the same time_. Not to mention thirteen officers had already gotten in trouble, which was a little high, even for these Commanders.

They seemed to be arguing, pointing and shouting at each other like children. It seemed like the rest of them had ganged up on Root, by the way he was vehemently shaking his head. Eventually, he sighed and went up to the pedestal that was now set up and waiting.

Holly quickly found Trouble. "What happened? Why aren't you in your office?"

He shrugged. "Got the same call you did, yeah? Drop all stuff and report to the commons. I really have no clue about what's happening."

There was a wide range of emotions throughout the crowd. Some were looking scared, some like they were about to explode from being pulled from their work, some even close to tears. Quite a few were laughing and joking around, obviously thinking it wasn't serious.

"Attention," Root said, and immediately all the LEP workers fell quiet. Call it intuition, but they could tell that this wasn't a time to chit-chat.

"You may have noticed a few strange things happening over the past few days. Commanders missing frequently, some of us more testy then usual."

There was a (slightly scattered) chorus of 'yes'. Almost three-quarters of the LEP population had found themselves in trouble with their Commander more then once. Holly herself had five, with at least one for each of the Commanders.

"Yesterday some robber or robbers, for an unknown reason, was able to break into Garnet Bank."

The Garnet Bank. It was the most high-class, safety-coordinated bank in Haven. Their strategy was to but very few alarms on the entrances. But when criminals tried to escape, they'd find cops alerted to their presences. Fooled by an illusion of safety, the villains would be captured and the money returned.

"I'm afraid to say that the LEP bank account has been robbed of everything."

A shockwave rippled throughout the room—still echoing with a 'D'Arvit!' or two but everyone knew what that meant.

The LEP wasn't a public service—it wasn't paid for by the government. It was founded by one Mr. Mousse a long time ago, and the business prospered and quickly overtook any public police stations.

Without the money in the LEP bank account, they couldn't be paid. Root's voice continued to resonate to the shell-shocked audience.

"We're working on finding the culprit or culprits, but until then, you're all fired. Temporarily."

He said this with all traces of seriousness on his face… rather strange considering they all knew he probably wanted to say that every day of his Commander job life. Without the 'temporarily' part.

They all started to file out. Holly started putting her Traffic equipment back on their shelves angrily. She couldn't believe it. She just couldn't believe it.

Trouble, apparently done with his packing of his office, came up behind her. "You seem angry."

She turned around, annoyed, giving him a look that had 'duh' written all over it. He mumbled something under his breath that sounded like 'knew it'. A little of her anger being replaced by curiosity, she looked up at him. "What?"

He smiled. "We had to take this one class to get into Recon on how to talk to criminals—one technique was empathy. Obviously, it doesn't work very well, as you don't seem to be feeling much better."

Holly snorted. "Right."

"So, what's wrong? Not that everything's fine and dandy with everyone else here, but you seem angrier, if that's possible."

"Well," she sighed, wondering how to explain her feelings, "It's just that I've wanted this job ever since… for a long time. I've been here what—six weeks? and already this is falling apart. Now I have to go back home, and find a new job- not like anything is going to come even close to this."

Trouble nodded hesitantly, seeming to be thinking about something. When he didn't speak, she went on going.

"How'd you pack up your entire office so quickly?"

He looked at her for a second, long and hard, before speaking. "I still have hope that this place will last."

She shook her head slightly, smiling, but couldn't help be a little shaken by his words. "I'm going to see Foaly." She left for the Ops Booth immediately, not wanting to really think about those deep subjects. Better to avoid them all.

Foaly was typing again, not making a move to pack. "Hey, Holly," he said distractedly, the absent-minded greeting the only reaction to her entering.

"Aren't you leaving?" she asked bluntly. She wasn't in the mood for subtleness.

He looked at her incredulously. "Leaving? Of course not! I've still got this whole robbery chain thing to work out!"

Holly stared before the words sunk in. "Robbery _chain?_"

Foaly nodded. "Big companies have been going down—it was a mission so important, only the Commanders were allowed to work on it. A field break, rather. We just weren't able to work fast enough—they got to us first."

"So what are we going to do?"

He shrugged. "Still keep a few less expensive LEP activities going to encourage people not to completely ditch us. Like Crunchball, all the extracurricular stuff, and the Commanders are going to give up some money out of their own pockets to keep some workers working. We can't have all Haven in chaos 'cause of one simple robbery, right?"

But they both knew it was more then just 'one simple robbery'. And now all Holly had to look forward to was Crunchball.

**END OF CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

**Mr. Mousse? I can't believe my lack of creativity. I'm gagging just looking at it. _Hair gel?_ How dumb… **


	16. Chapter 16

**It's a good thing I have an idea of what's going to happen in this story—if I didn't, I'd be at a real road block. As for the villain, I'm not saying. But it probably won't be a villain that was in the books. Maybe mentioned once or twice, but that's it. For some reason I don't like it when people pull old villains into their stories. **

**So sorry I haven't been able to update—I was at another conference. Alright, I don't have a good excuse. But I _do_ have a free Saturday! No conferences, soccer games, OR competitions! FREEDOM!**

**_Also, this chapter marks my 50,000th word to this website! Everybody cheeeeer!_**

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. Eoin Colfer does. I am not Eoin (pronounced Owen, which I think is awesome) Colfer.**

_**Haircut**_

**Chapter Sixteen**

Money. Moneymoneymoneymoney, Holly thought grumpily. All that people think about these days.

But then again, that's for a good reason. Unless you're either favoring the current leading political party (there are many more then just Republican and Democratic) or really, really lucky, if you live in Haven you're bound to be in debt up to your pointed ears.

Holly, after the company-wide discharge of Recon, had been visited (along with all the workers) by CASH, the **C**areer **A**scends to **S**uccess in **H**aven. They were the laughing-stock of the psychological world- always seeming to know exactly who was out of work, and trying to get them out of debt and into a fun, good-paying and successful job.

They were widely regarded as a big joke, as to put it mildly, they never work out. But the "assistors", as they liked to call them, were really, REALLY annoying. And so usually got their way.

And well, Holly usually gets _her_ way too, but then again, here she was, working as a waitress at the local seafood restaurant.

Holly _loathed_ seafood. Too much salt. Not to mention it usually was rather stale, since it had to be imported from the surface.

She slid away into a corner and took out her cellular, starting to speed-dial Trouble. He picked up on the first ring. "Holly?"

He sounded desperate. "CASH get you too?"

"Yeah," she answered. "What'd they stick you to?"

Sullen for a few moments, he finally answered. "Janitorial duty. Said it'd appease the hungry desires in the back of my mind." He snorted. "Desires for what, old banana peels? I've been cleaning up this place all day, and I don't even know where it is." Holly could practically hear him miserably poking at things with his pointed stick.

"Tell me about it. They placed me at an awful restaurant, just because it was close to my house. Claimed it would help me to 'breathe the fresh morning air' as I walked to work. Guess they must've forgotten that I used to _work_ outside." She had to wince as the word 'used' left her mouth. Oh yeah—she doesn't work at the LEP any more.

His laughter made a crackling sound through the phone. "I've already called the other guys—CASH's got to them too. You won't believe this, but they've been placed at the most wacko jobs. Vein's working as one of those people who stands outside a restaurant wearing the menu."

Holly chuckled. "Actually, I can picture that," she said, imagining an annoyed looking Vein walking around with a big advertising sign.

"Yeah, and get this—Frond's been hired as a _statistician_. Can you believe _that_?"

A long pause. "Who'd be stupid enough to hire her for a job that requires thinking?"

"The local telephone company."

She groaned, half expecting her cell to shut down any second. "Somebody help us."

Suddenly a voice came through the phone, followed by Trouble's voice. "D'arvit, that's my boss. I don't think he'll like me being on the phone—gotta go, Holly." After a quick exchange of goodbyes, he hung up.

A toffee-skinned extremely short elf came running up to Holly—_her_ boss. Apparently bosses had things about cell's, along with high school principals and the like.

"Miss, Short," he paused, reading her name tag, "This is a high-quality restaurant."

She looked at him, not wanting to upset but really too worn out to care. High-quality restaurant, yeah right.

He went on. "It doesn't do very much good to talk on the cellular when working." All right, it doesn't help much to chat when serving rotten-looking caviar, so what?

"Maybe you should just go home for today."

Quickly, she obliged. She hadn't even wanted that job anyway- like she would even come back tomorrow. Pssh.

Once she got home, though, there was something(s) she found that made her change her mind.

Bills. In her mailbox.

…Oh.

Holly sighed, bringing the neon-colored packet of papers in. She hated this time of the year—like every other fairy in existence, but Holly liked to believe she hated it more.

She looked at the bills and all of the numbers on them. That's a lot of digits—did she really take that many showers?

There was only one thing to do about this. Which was, unfortunately, go back to work tomorrow.

Ha. Yeah, right.

Holly didn't want to seem rude, but there was absolutely no way she was going back to that restaurant. No. Way.

Of course, that made it harder to pay the bills. Holly sighed, and started to get her shoes on.

Twenty minutes later, she was back in the Ops Booth, only there because Foaly came and vouched for her.

"Any luck on the robberies?"

He looked glum—a strange look for Foaly, who was almost always cheerful. "Nope. There are fingerprints all over the place, but all of them belong to regular visitors of the bank, so we can't pin it on anyone."

Holly fidgeted, not having much to talk about save for the subject she came for—which she didn't really want to bring up. "Er, Foaly? In the sake of friendship, could I ask a favor?"

The centaur turned around, the brightness in his eyes betraying his sudden interest. "Of course."

"Well, um, you know what day it is…"

Foaly's brilliant mind had already figured it out. "Having money problems?"

"…Maybe."

He laughed at her awkwardness. "I've seen your house, Holly. It's small enough that your bills must be tiny. Sure, I'll help you out. But you owe me."

"Owe you what?"

"I like carrots. Natural grown ones, from the surface. Without the nasty pesticides. And nettle smoothies."

Holly couldn't help but smile.

"Oh yes, Holly, don't forget to wear yellow tomorrow!"

She stared. "Yellow? What? Why?"

He shook his head rather fondly. "The first Crunchball game—don't tell me you forgot! And there's a practice today, too! In about half an hour, by the way. I thought that's why you came here in the first place!"

"Why do I have to wear yellow?" Holly asked, while quickly gathering up her things—the few of them she had, anyway.

"Well, we don't exactly have money to buy you uniforms, do we?" Foaly replied unhappily. This meant that also, he wasn't getting paid, even though he was needed to help catch the robber.

"But what about meds and protective equipment? And I don't have anything yellow!"

"Then I suppose the team might get a little bloody. You'll probably be allowed to use magic to heal yourself—you are running hot, aren't you?"

"Uh, yeah, but—"

"Okay, then you'll be fine. As for yellow, since you're short on money, you can just borrow one of my t-shirts." He looked pleased, like this was a great idea. Holly didn't really identify, but reluctantly agreed.

"Don't worry, Holly, I'll take care of your bills. Just go to practice, and if you see Root, do me a favor and remind me what a diligent, hard, loyal worker I am. And how he owes me pay."

"If you say so." She chuckled and left the room, bill problem solved.

On the way, she ran into the goal-keeper for the team, Al Brown. Said goalie hated his name, and went by Albie, from Al B. He was a small fellow, darker in skin color then Holly but lighter in hair, and simply loved crunchball—enough that the only reason he joined the LEP was because the coach was supposedly brilliant.

But Albie's luck ran out a year after he entered—Coach Ozark left, leaving the new, short-tempered Coach Atnek in his place.

They talked on the way to the gym, or at least, Albie talked. Mostly about his anger at whoever robbed the bank, for now they couldn't have uniforms.

"What kind of Crunchball team are we if we come in our OWN shirts, with NO uniforms, appearing disorganized, against a fancy-shmancy other team! WE need to be fancy! WE need to make a good impression!" He continued with his rambling for a good portion of the walk down the hall.

They walked into the gym together, him still talking and her simply nodding her head at appropriate moments.

"Ah! There's the coach- I had a strategy I wanted to show him!" Albie ran off, without a second glance to Holly. She shrugged off his rudeness and followed him to the rest of the team.

They were all gathered around the Hulk who was grinning and holding up something. She hopped up and down, and almost fell when she saw what he was holding, and what were packed into the box in front of him.

Uniforms. Bright, new, yellow, uniforms. The team was captivated.

"I know how the LEP had to sell all our equipment," he was saying, "So I decided to go out on a limb and buy us new ones!"

"But, Jon," Albie said, (Jon was apparently the Hulk's real name), "You barely have enough money to pay your own bills!"

The Hulk looked at the ground for a moment, quiet. Then he spoke up. "Money isn't a problem anymore—Crunchball is more important." The team started to cheer, and he resumed smiling.

"One smaller size, made especially for the lady." He threw a uniform at her. It _was_ smaller then the others, and it looked like it'd fit her perfectly. She couldn't help but admire it, it was new and shiny and perfect. Everyone loves new things.

But as they set their uniforms down on the benches ever so carefully, Holly couldn't help but wonder where he got the money for them, along with the new, matching, crunchball and headgear. Her helmet even was specially made, so it'd fit her small head. She wasn't sure whether to be offended or thankful when he told her that.

_Maybe he was the robber!_, thought Holly excitedly. She promised herself that she'd talk to Foaly about this, trying not to look to suspiciously at him as he crunched another ball, earning yet more cheers from the team.

**END OF CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

**Hey, this is turning into a mystery-ish! These names are spewing out of my mind. Completely random, almost. Ozark came because I was thirsty, saw a bottle of Ozarka water, and took off the A. Al was completely random, and then I thought of Albie and decided to make the 'bie' into a 'B'. Atnek, on the other hand, came from Athens, then took away the H, making Atens, switched the N and E, making Atnes, and made the S into a K. I don't even know where that came from. And I decided Jon was appropriate, for no apparent reason. It just clicked, you know?**


	17. Chapter 17

**I'm starting to get used to the two thousand word chapter idea. I can write faster now, at least. Yay. **

**Review reply button! Whoo! It took me a while to finally discover it, but awesome! Expect every review you leave to have a response. I've been itching to do individual responses ever since I found out we weren't allowed to in the actual chapters.**

_Review of Crunchball rules: (Yeah, I know some of you are bound to have forgotten) Played on a triangular field. Seven to a team, three teams. Players are in an arrow-like formation (the arrow would be pointing to the team's goal which is located at one of the vertices). The player closest to the ball in the center of the triangle is the First Dunker, the next the Second Dunker, then the Goalkeeper. On each side of the goalie are two wingers, who spread out to be open around the enemy's goals to score. The wingers have position names that are First Right Winger (or FRW), First Left Winger (FLW), Second Right Winger (SRW), and Second Left Winger (SLW)._

_When the game starts and the players start to move, the first to get to the ball (normally one of the First Dunkers) throws it hard at the wall, the floor, another player's head, etc. It flattens into a disk with a loud crunch, hence the name Crunchball. Then the disk must be thrown into a goal by one of the dunkers or wingers (wingers is the easier way and generally preferred). Holly plays Second Dunker. She's the second most valuable (though there is controversy over this, some believe it's the goalie) player, though not seen that way because of her gender. Jon, or the Hulk, plays First Dunker._

_**Also, (I didn't tell you this part), The game ends when one team gets a certain amount of points. They play with normally twenty.**_

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl.**

_**Haircut**_

**Chapter Seventeen**

Holly awoke to the chirping birds, nature sounds of her alarm clock, and a phone call from her new boss.

"Why aren't you here, employee?" Already, he had forgotten her name.

"Let me guess, sir. Because I'm here?" Holly answered sarcastically. Today was not her day.

"Don't be insubordinate with me!"

"I'm not, sir. Just telling the truth."

"Well, then, I'll be expecting you in about ten minutes, and you'd better be telling the truth about why you left work early yesterday." He hung up.

_Go to work?_ Holly thought sardonically, _Now why would I ever want to do that?_ She got out of bed (finally) and picked up her new Crunchball uniform, starting to ready for the game.

In ten minutes (about the time she was supposed to be at work), she was all set, and headed for the LEP building to practice for the game. It wasn't for another two and a half hours (at least), but for one, their coach was strict and liked promptness, and second, this way she had an excuse to miss work. Not that she _needed_ one, but this way made her feel less guilty.

In fact, she was feeling pretty good by the time she reached the gym. No work, a day of Crunchball, and no work. Not to mention Foaly paying her bills and all she had to do was pick up some carrots for him (Foaly rarely left the office and even more seldom the building—going all the way to a grocery store would give him a stroke).

Though, her good mood was dampened when she opened the doors. There, already warmed up and ready, was The Hulk Jon, crunching ball after ball with mighty strength, as Coach Atnek watched. It looked like he was about to cry with happiness. And really, she couldn't blame him. He really was a good player.

_Who probably robs banks_, Holly reminded herself. She couldn't shake off the feeling that something was odd about him.

"Hey, Short, get over here!" The coach called her over. "How 'bout you play Goalkeeper so Jon here can take some shots?"

Well, it was better then not playing at all. Holly mentally sighed but nodded and jogged over to the hole at the point of the triangle.

She soon realized that she was wrong. Not playing at all was much, much better then playing goalie. She was inexperienced, and the Hulk drove very hard, fast balls. It wasn't long before she realized it was less painful just to dive out of the way of the balls then to actually try to stop them from going in.

A little while later, she was tired and battered, and allowed a little of her magic to seep in and refresh her. The Hulk, though, was excited, jumping up and down like a child, eager for his turn on the slide.

Soon, the rest of the team was there. Sleepy, cranky, and not really wanting to play, but there nonetheless. Atnek ordered some drills, and the lethargic players sluggishly started to move about. Holly was beginning to wonder if they'd last five minutes into the game.

But Holly had never played in team sports before, and in no time the entire team was taking after Jon and bouncing around like balls of energy, chit chatting and ready for the game to begin. Of course, they still had half an hour left. Atnek gathered the team in the gym corner (they couldn't take the locker room any more, as Holly wasn't allowed in) and began to discuss strategy.

Holly couldn't help but be impressed at how the entire team suggested methods and moves, and felt a little better about the outcome of the game.

They started to warm up. They started with stretching and jogging, practiced their shots (except for the goalie, who practiced his saves), and Holly and Jon went off into a corner with the coach to practice crunching the balls.

Atnek had gotten some special cheap versions of the game balls. The game balls were expensive, painted well, and spelled into being able to pop up into a sphere after a game. These were just as hard, but only able to be used once.

Holly and the Hulk differed in their crunching skills enormously. Jon used brute force, slamming the ball into the ground, a person's chest, anything that was remotely solid.

But Holly, on the other hand, used strategy and intellect to plan her move. An opening there, a right pass here, a corner that would serve as a wedge to crunch the ball. She was smart, and what she lacked in muscle could make up in wit.

Of course, people didn't know that just by looking at her. When she had tried out, she had known that others would think she was a weakling, from her size and the plain fact that she was a girl. Especially standing next to the Hulk was enough to make her look even smaller—the (she didn't know if he was a sprite or an elf) guy was tall enough to ride a horse (not that any of the People had ridden horses, that was for Mud Men), which was pretty dang tall.

Holly rubbed her arm tiredly. It ached slightly from all the throwing, which wasn't really good as the game was about to start. Not to mention her uniform was already dirty. Ack.

"Now presenting," an announcer said proudly (this wasn't the fancy-shmancy one they usually had—he quit the moment he found out about the bank robbery), "The LEP (Lower Elements Police) Leprechauns, the FIR (Fight Is Right) Fauna, and the KOL (Keepers Of the Law) Knolls."

Interesting. The FIR was an all female (the ONLY all female team) Tae-Kwon-Do type place that had prospered amazingly in the past year or so. They were total feminists and were a decent Crunchball team, all slim and graceful and dexterous. They weren't that strong, though, the only strength they really had was gained in their martial arts.

And on the total opposite side, the KOL were tough large guys, not as large as the Hulk but still about three and a half feet. They depended largely on muscle, and it worked, most of the time. FIR and KOL were pretty much rivals, as the FIR hated it when the KOL picked up their small girls and threw them around, and the KOL despised it every time the girls would outsmart or slip around them. Playing against them both at the same time would usually result in the win of the third team, as the two nemeses would brawl about, not really paying attention as the other players scored.

Holly had a pretty good feeling they were going to win, and the stone at the bottom of her stomach that related to nervousness evaporated in an instant. No worries.

And no pressure, either, she thought dryly, as she looked about. Crowds were cheering in the stands, waving about posters that said things like "Knock the Knolls!" or "Flaunt the Fauna!". Some posters said bad things about their team, though—it was obvious not everyone in the neighborhood was a Leprechaun fan. One poster in particular caught her eye. In big letters, it said "**L**epers **E**at **P**oo!" A large man was holding the sign up—Holly guessed he was the father of one of the Knolls or something of the sort. The sheer stupidity of the sign pointed to that conclusion.

Her attention snapped back to the field when a whistle blew. The game had started, and she didn't even hear anything that had been going on before… oops.

The Hulk was fast. He was the first to the ball, and in what seemed to be less then a second, had crunched the ball. This seemed to slow the other teams down considerably, as they watched in awe. Jon pulled his mighty arm back and, almost like a slingshot, launched the ball into the goal.

The arena was quiet, as the shocked Fauna Goalkeeper moved to retrieve the ball.

And the commenter goes wild. "Amazing! Awesome!…" He continued to rant. Holly sighed, and moved back the two small steps to her starting position. The Hulk jogged back to his spot, grinning.

As soon as the whistle blew, the Hulk rushed forward, Holly following half heartedly. She expected correctly—he had scored in less then a minute.

One would expect the Wingers to be mad at him, for taking all the glory upon himself and not passing to them. That was certainly how Holly felt. But no, they were looking up to him like some sort of idol; like some sort of god. It was making her feel sick, watching him revel in his attention, turning around and smiling. Ugh.

That's all Jon is, she decided. A suck-up.

The Crunchball dropped again, and this time, Holly didn't even bother to move.

**END OF CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

**Okay, sorry about the totally uncreative names for the teams. I'm having a sort of breakdown, as my IPC grade is an 80. 80! Not good! I have to raise it at least 6 points in the next 2 and a half weeks. Ugh.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Aah! Two weeks! Two weeks! I know it's been forever and ever, but finals are coming. And this is my first year with high school classes. Lots of exam reviews—I mean, our exams are 25 percent of our grade! Well, even though it's really late, it's also really long. That should make up somewhat.**

**How long do you guys think it's been in the story—about three months? I think that's about right.**

**But in Christmas Break, I intend on updating more frequently, and the story should be finished before school starts again—thank god I have it all planned out. Which means longer chapters in faster updates. Whether the story being over is a good or bad thing, I will leave it to you to decide.**

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. Eoin Colfer does. My (first) name is Rebekah. Rebekah does not equal Eoin Colfer. Eoin Colfer does not equal Rebekah. Therefore, if Eoin Colfer owns Artemis Fowl, Rebekah does not. Logical reasoning.**

_**Haircut**_

**Chapter Eighteen**

They won the next three games in a row. One of the commanders got the idea of a betting system, and with Foaly's help, manipulated it so every time the Leprechauns won, the money people betted against them came to the LEP. A good cause.

Now, normally, with their great winning streak—courtesy of the Hulk—nobody would ever bet against them, making the plan unprofitable. But as they say, pride cometh before a fall.

And it really did. Of course, it helped some that with a few friends in high places Foaly was able to get some commercials on everywhere that advertised the betting. Oh, and emphasized on how the Leprechauns would ALWAYS win.

The other teams couldn't handle that, and proudly betted high amounts of cash. Of course, after the Leprechauns, or really just Jon, smushed them in the last game, the bets weren't nearly that high, but nobody wanted to stop betting. That would be like admitting defeat, and why in Earth would you want to do that?

And since there was a limit on how much you could bet (just to keep everyone in check), and there were two teams betting against them and one team betting for them, the LEP made a quaint little profit.

Not to mention they were thinking about having people who came to the games have to bet –it would be mandatory. That way they would have roughly a 2:1 ratio of money gains to losses. Things were starting to look up for the LEP.

But not for Holly Short. She STILL hadn't managed to get her boss to fire her, STILL hadn't been able to get hold of the ball in any of the Crunchball games, and overall, STILL hadn't been able to get an inkling of who the perpetrator of the robbing of the LEP bank account was. Not that she didn't have her suspicions.

"…And he didn't even give me the ball. Not once! How's that for evil? And when'd he get the money for those uniforms! Albie told me that the Hulk—I mean Jon—was poor before, and money doesn't just pop out of holes!" Because of course the People couldn't say "money doesn't grow on trees", since half of them didn't know what a tree _was_.

Foaly sat at his computer chair (as usual), listening to Holly's story with an impassive face. Now that she had paused for breath, he saw his chance to speak and took it.

"He told you this?"

She hesitated. "Well, he said it in front of everyone, and it was directed to him as a question, not to me as a statement, but pretty much, yeah."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure he wasn't just exaggerating, saying that seven brand-spanking new uniforms were a bit much on the wallet?"

"No," Holly said stubbornly, "Albie's a decent guy. A little obsessive, perhaps, but honest and straight-forward." She talked to him on the field during games, having nothing else to do and being the closest distance-wise to him.

Foaly paused, trying to sort out his words so they wouldn't sound offensive.

"Holly, are you sure you're not, well, just acting on covetousness?" There, he thought, pleased with himself. What a good euphemism.

Unfortunately, it didn't help. Holly sat there, with a blank look on her face. "What?"

"Well… jealousy?"

She exploded, just like Foaly knew she would. He sighed and lay back.

"Jealous! Why in Frond's name would I ever be jealous of him? He can't even fit through doorways right! He—" Holly paused, trying to think of another true insult that didn't sound childish."

"Doesn't pass the ball to you?" The centaur asked quietly. "Takes all the glory?" Holly bowed her head, feeling a little guilty; for she knew his words were true. "And the entire team seems to approve of this? Doesn't that make you a little jealous?

"You're used to being respected, in a way, Holly. You've always stood out, as the only girl, for the past—how long has it been since you joined? Two and a half months?—something like that, nobody has ignored you. And you're not used to that."

Foaly may not have had that many friends, but he was an astute observer and knew how people's minds worked.

She glared at him, not answering. He was right. He was always right.

Foaly took her silence as the answer he knew it to be. He also knew he was always right. Of course, he was a genius.

Just when the quiet was beginning to be a little awkward, his computer started flashing with the signs that he had gotten a message. He turned to receive it, the letters quickly appearing on the page. He read it once, no, twice, his frown deepening then lightening up as he chuckled.

"Speak of the devil."

Holly understood THAT saying. She sat up, attentive. "What is it?"

He scanned the message again, just to make sure. "Our star Crunchball player has been impaired—some sort of dart?—it only happened an hour ago. He's at a Healer's right now. But it looks like he won't be able to play for a while—it's some sort of poison, and while it doesn't seem to be too harmful, it has lingering effects of weakness."

Holly jumped up from her chair, already feeling guilty. Now she knew for sure it wasn't Jon who had robbed the bank. "I've got to go." Foaly nodded, already examining the letter.

She took the bus to the hospital. The lines were long, though, apparently everyone had already heard.

Though the Hulk wasn't THAT famous. Holly was able to get in quite easily, and waited outside the hospital room with a few others. She joined Albie with the rest of their team, who were already there.

While waiting, she was able to think through her suspicions meticulously.

Well, the robber was obviously not the Hulk. Why would he ever get himself attacked, then? But a far-fetched theory was already forming itself in her mind.

Maybe he was the robber! And maybe he thought the uniforms and everything were getting too extravagant, and maybe he knew that Holly was suspecting him! So he decided to get himself hospitalized! And maybe his whole plan was to get the LEP down and poor, then bring it back up thanks to his superb Crunchball playing, and gain all the glory!

But that theory was soon shot down. Trying to get more information, Holly decided to ask Albie, a good friend of Jon's, a few questions.

"Albie?"

He turned slightly to her, looking up from his strategy plans. "Mm?"

"How did the H—Jon, I mean, get the money to buy those uniforms? Didn't you say he was really poor?"

"Well, yeah, he was. But then his grandma died, she was like a thousand years old or something, and left him a whole bunch of money. He's trying to use it for 'the greater good' or something. Sometimes I think that's Jon's greatest weakness—the big guy thinks he can save the world. Which, really, he probably could, but—"

Aware that Albie was rambling, Holly cut him off. "Okay, thanks. I was just curious."

And now she felt even guiltier. Well, so much for that conjecture. She continued to run through possibilities in her head, stopping each one just when it passed the line between not likely and insane. Which was pretty quick.

"They are admitting visitors now." A short (even for an elf) Healer frowned at them as the entire team, family, and fan hordes stood up. "Six at a time, please. There were three members of his family, so Holly, Albie, and Coach Atnek were chosen to go in with them.

The Hulk was sitting on the hospital bed, his massive frame drooping down over both sides of it (but then again, the beds there were cheap and therefore very small). He was grinning at them, looking fully recovered save for a slight greenish tint to his face and his hand covering a bandage on his chest, which must have been where he got hit.

The players, coach, and family simultaneously started fussing.

"Jon, _really_, you look cold. I'll get another blanket." His mother was already searching in the closet.

"What's this crap they're feeding you? Back in my day hospitals would serve veggies and potatoes—oh yes, potatoes are veggies." Jon's grandfather, who didn't really look too old, (but maybe that had something to do with how humongous he was - apparently the massiveness was hereditary) frowned at the sick-looking pile of food on his grandson's plate.

"Better get out to that hospital gym. Don't wanna be out of shape for the game in three days!" Coach Atnek looked excited at the mere idea of working out.

"Look at this strategy I made—here, this is your place. The rest of us will just sit in front of our goal, making it impossible for someone to score on us. It's foolproof!" Albie, of course. The plan would be a lot better if it weren't all depending on one player. But of course, this was the Hulk, so they all could depend on him.

"You need to come home soon—you've gotten lots of calls! Maybe from a _girl_, wink, wink, nudge, nudge?" That was Jon's father. He had stumbled upon his son's notes that he passed while being lectured by the Commanders with a friend, and had tried to get 'in sync' with young people's slang. It didn't work too well.

The Hulk grinned wider at all the attention. "Honest, I'm fine. Just a little green from the nasty food," he said, nodding at his grandfather as he said it.

Holly was quiet during the whole thing. She had simply nodded at him in a form of saying hello, knowing that was all that was really needed.

On the way home, she stopped at Trouble's house. She had left him out of her confidence for too long, and she was sure that he would have some good ideas. Not to mention Trouble was a bit of a perfectionist, and if anyone at all could help her (other then Foaly), he could.

"…And then my whole plans, all my theories disappeared like that!" Holly snapped her fingers to emphasize. "And now I've got nothing to work with."

Trouble looked at her dubiously. "Have you gone to the scene of the crime yet?"

"Where?"

"You know… the bank."

"Oh. No. I assumed the police would've found everything worth finding."

"Ah, but they don't know what they're trying to find."

"And we do?"

He snorted. "The bank the LEP uses—used to use—is pretty far away. We'll have an idea by the time we get there."

But it wasn't that far. And they had no idea. All they had succeeded on was arguing. Good-naturedly, but still arguing.

Holly had adamantly refused to let anyone else in on what she called 'the Plan'. Trouble insisted his friends were geniuses, and could be of a great help. She maintained still that Foaly was smarter then all of his friends combined.

Not to mention it took a whopping ten minutes to get inside the actual bank. The robbery had doubled security, and Holly and Trouble found themselves searched. Actually searched, with weapon-detectors and everything.

"This is really, incredibly sad." Holly glanced back at the guards, as if to make sure they weren't watching. "They didn't even ask to see if we were members of this bank, which we aren't. I bet they're only doing this because the boss is insisting."

"Yeah, they aren't really doing a good job, are they?" Trouble replied. Back behind them, a guard fumbled around in one of someone's pockets, then let them go. Next to him, his fellow security lazily swung his weapon-detector over another. Over the head, also—like any weapons would be hidden there. Ha.

Holly walked over to a giant, half-patched up hole in the wall. It was surrounded by neon ropes, making sure nobody touched the still-fragile mess.

"So this is where the bad guy entered, eh?"

"Bad guys."

"What?"

Trouble shrugged. "Well, to me, it doesn't seem like whoever did this would've done this alone, right? This bank isn't one you can just waltz in and take whatever you want. My thoughts are that it's some kind of conspiracy."

Holly paused. She hadn't thought of that either. Drat. Moving on, she reached out, almost as if to touch the smooth, ovular part of the hole that wasn't mended. "Does this look like Neutrino to you?" she asked, though she already thought she knew the answer.

"Nope."

"Hmm. That's what I think." Another pause. "Ooh, I know this one. It's at the tip of my tongue…"

"Laser."

"That's the one. Pretty strong one, too."

"Yup." Holly finally turned around to see why Trouble was talking in monosyllables, then turned to see him looking through a rather large book of bank members.

"What are you doing?"

He tore himself away from the pages, rather embarrassed. "Nothing, it's, er, interesting."

Still feeling that this was not quite the absolute truth, she shrugged. "If you say so."

Then, finally, the security noticed them.

"Hey! What're you doing over there?"

**END OF CHAPTER (checks) EIGHTEEN**

**I liked that chapter. Guess who knows how it (the whole story, I mean) ends! Mwahaha!**


	19. Chapter 19

**In a few reviews someone pointed out some mistakes. Apparently Sool was in Internal Affairs—but I'll fix that up next chapter.**

**But I do have an explanation for the time. It never states what year it is in the books (at least I don't think it does), and I always imagined it'd be sometime in the future. So in this story, it would be around our time or a little bit back. Not in the nineteenth century or anything.**

**And about the Holly/Trouble thing… I can't do it. Tried so many times (that's why the chapter took so long), can't do it. So I'm wrapping it up this chapter and taking the genre off romance. Really really sorry, all you people who wanted HT. I actually very very very subtly got the idea to wrap it up from the movie Memoirs of a Geisha, but that's not the point.**

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. Eoin Colfer does. I do own Crunchball, though. Not the _idea_ of Crunchball, but the rules and stuff. Which as long as I get some credit, everyone else is free to use.**

_**Haircut**_

**Chapter Nineteen**

It went on like that for about a month. Holly would go to Crunchball games, get a job, get fired at or quit said job, and all in the space of a week, allowing the process to begin itself again. It ended up that she turned off her home phone because of all the times her bosses had called to tell her that she was jobless yet again. Now she used her mobile phone, which only a select few had. Namely Foaly, Trouble, and a few of the Crunchball team. She would normally chat with them while Jon (his last name, she had finally figured out, was Brown) did the playing.

She was almost to her front step from quitting a museum job (she didn't like art much) when her phone rang.

"Holly! Where are you?" It was Foaly.

She blinked. "About three steps from home. Why?"

"You're supposed to be at the LEP building. The Commanders are holding a meeting with all the ex-workers."

"I am?"

"Didn't you get the message?"

Holly ran up to her door. On her doormat was a piece of paper with several dirty boot prints on it. Oops.

"Oh. Okay, I'll be there soon."

She was already running as she said those words.

At the next traffic light, her phone rang again. "Hello?"

This time, it was Trouble. "Holly! Did you get the—"

"Message? Yeah, sorry I'm late. Foaly just called me—"

"Late? It starts in ten minutes. I thought I'd remind you, but it looks like Foaly got there first. He probably knew you'd forget or be late."

Holly swore. "D'arvit! Aaargh, I can't believe him!" Her anger was fueled by the fact that she had missed the light talking to Trouble.

"Well, he got you to get moving, didn't he?"

"I would've left anyway."

She heard Trouble chuckle through the phone. "No, you wouldn't have."

"Alright, maybe I would have waited a couple minutes, but I wouldn't have been late!"

"Yes, you would have. Also, I have something to tell you. Meet me at Bowlier's at three?" Bowlier's was rather like Haven's version of a fast-food restaurant. For the last health movement, they had added a free applesauce in every meal. Wasn't a big hit.

"Something to tell me, eh? Will I like it?"

She could almost hear him smile. "Oh yeah. Bring a tranquilizer gun, I might have to use it on you if you get too excited."

But she didn't have much time to think about this exciting news. The lights flashed and the cars stopped for her to get across. "Sure, three works. Here, I'll talk to you later, Trouble." She hung up and crossed the street. The LEP building was only a couple blocks down, which was mostly why she managed not to be late to work. When she worked there, anyway.

Well, there was that snack shop right between her house and the LEP building. It sold her favorite flavor of smoothie. Nettle. Yum.

But off of that subject. Holly hurried into the building, squeezing through the many fired workers that were chattering with worried faces. Will they get their jobs back? Would they ever? Holly wished she knew too.

She finally spotted Trouble towards the right side of the building. She could barely make him out, and only because he was wearing his favorite red shirt. Funny, mostly because the People didn't normally wear red. Greens, browns, a little bit of blacks or dark blues, but not… red. Trouble had six different red shirts, a purple, and three yellow—but no, she had given up that little fixation of him long ago.

Struggling between all the male sprites, pixies, and elves, she reached him just in time. Commander Root was up at the podium, clearing his throat.

"Told you I wouldn't be late."

"Actually, you are." Trouble smirked. "You missed the opening passage. Now the commander's just getting to the main point."

As if on cue, Root started to speak. "I'm sure many of you were surprised to get our summons," he said, "and we have done as much as possible to get all of the workers who were let out because of the robbery here today."

Holly frowned. "Didn't seem like that to me," she whispered to Trouble. He shrugged. "Maybe if you had checked your phone, you'd see the astonishing amount of messages left because you didn't respond to the letter."

She was about to say that her phone didn't have any messages, when—oh yes. Her home phone, which she turned off. Oops. Holly remained quiet and listened to Root's speech.

"—and we have regained a small sum of money thanks to the Crunchball team, which we will be using to bring back some of the workers here."

A pause. This took time to register in the former LEP officers minds, and when they did—well, everyone gaped, hoping it'd be them. Back to work? No more persistent buggering by C.A.S.H.? (The Career Ascends to Success in Haven, just in case you have forgotten) This was cause for celebration!—if it was you that got your job back.

"We have spoken to the Council about this, and have agreed to bring back the Traffic workers due to dramatically rising levels of theft, crashes, and general mischief on the streets. Because of the sheer number of Traffic workers needed to patrol the streets sufficiently, many of us commanders have been dismissed. All that is left is me and Commander Garnet, who is here beside me." A wiry-haired sprite standing by Root nodded his greeting at the crowd.

But the crowd barely registered any of that. All they heard was _bring back the Traffic workers_. Two-thirds of the crowd was wallowing in disbelief, while the remaining one-third that was in Traffic was having internal parties. Most of the remaining one-third, anyway.

Holly felt light headed. She had her job back. The job she loved—or rather, would love once she got promoted to Recon. The job she was good at—well, the job she wasn't horrendously bad at, anyway.

Root continued to speak. "But this does not mean we won't be enough to watch or reprimand you if you get out of hand!" He glared at the crowd. "What we lack in numbers we will make up for in extra hours." His partner looked deflated at this prospect. Holly didn't blame him. Extra hours on the job with Commander Root? She wouldn't have enjoyed it either.

"Also, we must tell you not to think about this as if you are fired. When the LEP gets back on steady financial ground, you will all be hired back to your same positions. Think of it rather as if you are on a paid vacation. Just not paid. You still have ties to the LEP."

Trouble groaned. "Like that'll help me," he grumbled. "Paid vacation that's not paid, ha!"

The commander continued to speak. "Also, some of you have complained that you left some important things in your offices or lockers in the LEP building, and since that section was locked, couldn't get them. Well, we have opened the doors for the next hour for you to get any things you might need until we call you back."

His prepared speech continued to go on for a while, mostly restating and paraphrasing everything he had just said, for the sake of the more mentally challenged. This was a clue that the speech itself had been made by someone else, probably his assistant, since Root would never be so considerate.

But after a while, they were released, and Holly made a beeline towards her locker. She opened it up—there didn't seem to be anything she needed at home.

"Don't forget your spare car key." Trouble pointed to a small thing in the back of the locker and took it out. Ah. So that was where it went.

"You went to your office already?" Holly looked at him incredulously.

"No. I know I didn't leave anything—I double-checked before I left in the first place."

"Of course. I should have suspected. You? The least bit disorganized? Ha!"

"Yeah, well—" Trouble stopped, seeing Vein over at his locker. "Oh look, there he is. Been looking all over for him. See you, Holly." He put the key into her hand, giving her that tingling feeling that she recognized from before. She swore lightly. It had stopped—that maniac observing of all his little traits and habits, that almost electric feeling. It had stopped. The last time she remembered it happening was… the last time they had actually come into physical contact. Which was a long time ago.

Drat. So it hadn't gone away—just lay dormant.

She had checked out a book on psychology, when the—er—infatuation was going on. She had been that desperate. And what did it say about her predicament? _Talk to someone._

Holly had laughed out loud for ten minutes.

Talk to someone? Talk to someone! Who would she talk to? Certainly not Trouble, and of course not her Crunchball team—they would probably call her a wuss and kick her off the team. Who else was there? Foaly?

Holly couldn't possibly imagine talking to Foaly, of all people, about an—infatuation.

So. Not Trouble, Foaly, or any of her other friends. That left one person.

Herself.

It wasn't really that ludicrous of an idea. Holly didn't really feel silly about talking to herself. She felt silly about the fact that she was resorting to talking to herself. Well, she hadn't had a _real_ female friend since—since—Lili. And Lili didn't count. So if Lili didn't count, then all Lili's friends didn't count. And if all them didn't count, then, well… Holly hadn't really had a _real_ female friend since farther back then she could remember.

It was a little pathetic, really.

But Holly didn't like to dwell in the past. She started to walk out of the building, and began her conversation with herself.

All right. First step in the scientific method: state the problem.

Problem. She thought she was infatuated with Trouble, and he was her friend.

And the rest of the scientific method went out the window, because with such a strange problem hypotheses and variables simply were of no use.

What she could do to resolve said problem—hmm. Well, she reasoned, the problem wasn't with Trouble. It was with herself. So therefore, she had to resolve the problem with herself.

Since she couldn't use the scientific method, might as well go on to the five basic questions.

Who? Trouble.

What? Infatuation.

When? A few weeks after she met him.

Where? At her job. She remembered it started at lunchtime.

Why? Ah, the hard one. Why. Why did she have this… fascination… with him?

How was Trouble different from the others?

Well, for starters, he had told her his real name. Phillip. It was a nice name. And she had always been closer to him then everyone except possibly Foaly.

And suddenly, it struck her in the face like something from a dwarf's backside.

It was because he had been the first one to befriend her.

Foaly she had met because of a wager. Albie and the rest because of the fact that Jon had taken over the game. Sure, she had sat by him on that first day, initiated contact, but he had kept it going. She had come to rely on him, and that was why her brain—for it was her brain, not her—had decided she was infatuated.

Hey, Holly thought it was a pretty convincing argument. Now to see if it worked.

She turned, going to Bowlier's. Two fifty-eight. She'll be a few minutes late. But Trouble would expect it—he knew her that well.

Bowlier's was pretty full, and again Holly had to look around for a few seconds to see his red shirt. He waved her over.

"Nettle smoothie," said Trouble, holding up a glass while sipping his own cup of coffee.

"Thanks." She took the smoothie from him, and their hands touched for a moment.

Nothing. Just the same friendship that had always lodged between them—no tingling feeling like she had just around half an hour ago. What do you know… that little self talk had worked. Maybe she should do it more often.

"So," she said, now feeling quite content, "so. What's this important info?"

He grinned. "Did you bring that tranquilizer?"

"Must've slipped my mind."

"That's too bad. Well," he said, getting back on topic, "remember that time we went to the bank?"

"Yes."

"And I spent about ten minutes staring at that book?"

"Yes."

"Well," he grinned here, drawing out his finish, "that was a book of all the clients of the bank. And you won't believe who I saw."

He had intrigued her fully now. "Who?"

"Amelia Brown."

"What significance is this?" Holly was confused now.

"It's Jon's grandmother. He lied about getting the money from her."

"What! But that could be anyone! A sister, mother, aunt, anyone!"

"No. They had a family account. The main holder was Nathan Brown, and then it said the family members and their relationship to him in parentheses. Jon Brown (son), Amelia Brown (mother), Sylvia Brown (wife), and I don't remember the rest."

"But it could have been the other grandmother who died and left him the money." Holly said, still unsure.

"That's why I didn't tell you at first. I thought the same. But later I went to research, just in case. Jon's grandmother and grandfather on the other side were very poor. She didn't have enough money to support herself, let alone buy a Crunchball team fancy uniforms or anything else."

Holly's head was spinning. "So he lied."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Let me just tell you my whole theory first. Okay. Remember how I said that I knew the bank robbery had to be a conspiracy?" Trouble's eyes were glinting now, excited.

"Yes…"

"I still think it is. I think Jon's whole family is in on this."

"His whole family?" Now Holly was getting excited.

"Exactly. Now, they rob the LEP's vault—"

"But," she interrupted, "they aren't trained robbers or anything. How could they have robbed that bank?"

"As you remember, Holly, the security was really lax. That's why they had to make it really tight after the robbery, to keep their image up."

"Oh yeah."

"Now," Trouble continued, "they rob the LEP's vault, causing the organization to be shut down. Then Jon uses the money to buy those uniforms—"

"Why?" Holly asked again. "He didn't really have a good reason to—we could've just worn yellow. It was suspicious, I mean, it certainly made me wary."

"He was getting his way into the coach's limelight. How often does someone spend that much money for those shiny new uniforms? The coach must've been really moved."

The truth dawned on her. "And when he got hurt, it was just…"

"A sham. Right. It erased doubts, well; it certainly took care of yours."

"And I didn't see his grandmother at the hospital because she was part of the plan."

"Yes. She probably came later when no one was around to gloat with him."

"But what about now? The LEP has some money back."

"I don't know where they messed up there," said Trouble thoughtfully, "I'll have to think about that."

"When did you get so good about these things?"

He gave a wry grin. "Recon. You learn a _lot_."

"And what about all this 'information'?"

"I have my sources." Seeing her skeptical look, he laughed. "What? I have a big family. I've got an uncle on the Council, a cousin working in the library—it was easy getting information."

Holly chuckled. But then she leaned in, having a plan. "What are we going to do now?"

"Do?" Trouble frowned. "Tell one of the commanders, of course."

"Garnet's new," said Holly, almost grinning. "He'll have to run everything by Root first. And Root hates me and doesn't know you."

"What're you saying?" asked Trouble suspiciously.

"They won't believe us."

"What?" Suddenly, he realized it at the same time she said it.

"We have to do it ourselves."

"No." he said firmly. "No. I'm only a beginning Recon officer, and you're… sorry, but you're only a Traffic worker."

"You've been trained."

"You haven't. Besides, we won't have supplies." He said, trying to dissuade her. But Holly was stubborn.

"I can take care of that."

It was his turn to look skeptical. "How?"

"I have my sources." She grinned.

Trouble sighed. "Foaly. But we could get fired!"

"No, we won't."

"How do you know?"

"It says in the description of the Recon job," recited Holly from memory (there was a time when she had read everything about Recon, hoping there'd be something that could help her get in), "it says in the fine print that you can, in fact, go on with a mission by yourself or with a backup member if your team is not available."

"I'm not part of Recon right now. I'm fired."

"No," smiled Holly, "you're on paid vacation that's not paid."

He sighed again. "Fine. I can't believe this, but you win."

She whooped. Finally, some action. Things were going her way.

**END OF CHAPTER NINETEEN**

**What a sucky penultimate chapter. Bleh. Bleh. And yes, I said penultimate. Chapter twenty will be the last chapter of Haircut. Should be another three-thousand one.**

**I tried to wrap up all questions in that last conversation. I hope it works and none of you are confused. The plot seemed fine in my head, but once I put it into words…**

**And also, I'm worried that some of you might complain that Holly wouldn't be like she is in this chapter. Think of it this way: she's reckless, proud, and hasn't gone through the rigorous training that Recon provides, making her not as well-tuned as she is in the AF books.**


	20. Chapter 20

**(pants) Can't…go…on…much…longer! **

**This chapter's incredibly long, longer then any other chapter I've ever written (The Ride Back doesn't count because it's a 7617 word one-shot, and took me two days to write… yeah, that was my first fanfic ever) so I apologize for the wait. Four weeks… woah. And more then four thousand words. Erk. I can't believe it's that long… it doesn't seem like it.**

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. Eoin Colfer does. I do own Crunchball, though. Not the _idea_ of Crunchball, but the rules and stuff. Which as long as I get some credit, everyone else is free to use.**

_**Haircut**_

**Chapter Twenty (and I have hit a landmark!)**

"He's not there. Let's come back tomorrow." Trouble looked at the door to the Ops Booth warily.

"No." said Holly immediately. "You're just trying to put this off. Again."

"For a pretty good reason, too."

It was about a week after the conversation at Bowlier's. Holly had tried to get to Foaly right away, but things kept coming up. Re-filling the paperwork now that she was in Traffic, lots of extra hours on the streets to fix the horrendous mess that was now Haven-without-the-LEP-for-two-months. Not to mention it was very, very crowded in Haven, since many elves, sprites, and pixies alike (and many other species) were moving in. The city was now the place to be.

And every time she got some off time and planned to go see Foaly, there happened to be a party at Trouble's house. Interesting.

But Holly wasn't stupid. She instantly knew that he was trying to put her off, and quickly set up a meeting with Foaly and dragged Trouble to the Ops Booth first moment she found.

"Holly, Foaly's probably busy. Didn't you say he was constantly working on that—er—what was it? Iris Cam Mark II? Not to mention with the lack of commanders he's probably dealing with Root more often, and you know how annoyed he gets with the centaur. Probably overworks him—"

"Quiet, Trouble. He's coming!"

Foaly answered the door, whinnying in delight when he saw Holly. This was rather hard, since he seemed to have something in his mouth. He pointed inside, gesturing for them to come in.

The Booth seemed a lot smaller then when Holly had last seen it. Where there had been the slightest bit of empty space last time, papers, figures, and notes were tacked up everywhere. She noticed a giant calendar covering one computer. Each square was filled up with comments and annotations. At the bottom of the current date, under "Wipe Memory of Memory Wiper", was "Meeting. Holly. Don't know when."

"So," said Foaly cheerily, "what did you want to see me about?"

"Well," started Holly, but before she could continue Trouble broke in.

"'Wipe Memory of Memory Wiper'?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Foaly sighed. "Ah yes, I have to do that soon. This might have to be quick, Holly," here she aimed a glare at the grinning Trouble, "you know when you wipe people's memories they tend to clog up in the system."

"The _memories_?" both Holly and Trouble said, temporarily startled.

"Yeah. Poor things get a little overwhelmed with all the images—you know how some of the really rich people pay to forget things. You have to wipe its memory eventually."

"Oh, uh, okay." Holly was speechless for a moment before remembering her purpose. "Trouble and I have figured out the bank robbery."

"I have to go fix Garnet's computer, too—wait, what!" Foaly turned around, a little incredulous. "Nonsense." Obviously he was under the impression that if he couldn't figure it out, no one could.

Now Trouble felt a little insulted. "We did," he argued. "It's the entire Brown family!"

"Brown? Isn't that the Crunchball player's last name?" Foaly looked at Holly, unconvinced. "I thought I talked about this with you!"

"No, we looked in the bank book of clients! His grandmother is in there!"

"Posh. The book could be old. It could be his other grandmother, or by marriage or something."

"The book updates itself!" Trouble, forgetting about his want to not go through with Holly's plan, continued to explain. Holly, now saved from having to elucidate the complicated information herself, gloated silently.

Trouble was done, and he leaned back in his chair, satisfied. Foaly sat there, a little perturbed. "And you plan to invoke the fine print and do this yourselves."

"No!" said Trouble, at the same time Holly exclaimed "Yes!"

Foaly raised an eyebrow.

"He's a little reluctant. Scared, maybe," said Holly, waving him off and ignoring Trouble's disbelieving grunt. "But he won't be after he sees all the _tremendous_ equipment you have for us."

The centaur grinned. Almost two months of not showing off any of his grand stuff made a guy very restless.

"This way," he said, leading them into the back of the (rather small) Ops Booth.

"You must realize this is rather short-notice," continued Foaly, "but luckily I have some of the best things for you all."

He opened a cabinet. "Iris-cams. Classic." Intrigued, Holly searched for her eye color—a nice hazel, while Trouble looked around for green. "Trouble, you know this already, but you need your exact iris shade for maximum performance. And try not to rub your eyes too much when you have them on."

Putting them in, for a moment everything seemed to be an ugly shade of green. But Holly blinked and the feeling disappeared. Foaly watched, still grinning. "There are a couple improvements to be made, but they work overall."

Trouble already was experimenting with them, squinting about the room to different objects, trying to zoom out and in.

Foaly moved on, pulling some wristband-like things from a drawer. "Locators." Trouble looked up. He hadn't seen those before. Noticing his gaze, Foaly continued. "We never really had a need for these before in Recon, since they're rather new. Normally we just used the helmets, which you'll see soon," he said, handing one to each of them. Holly pulled a joystick experimentally.

"Those are for moving that screen there about, to see where your partner is." Foaly elaborated. "Some normal sensitivity controls, zoom in, out, etc, and some uploading ports if you need to download information from computers or something. Oh, and there's the speaker." He pointed at various things on the locators to show them.

The wristband looked extremely heavy, but as Holly clipped it on, it adjusted itself to her skinny wrist and suddenly, she could barely notice it was there. Inwardly, she marveled at Foaly's genius.

It was almost as if the centaur could read their thoughts, as he stood there looking at them proudly. But soon he was reminded of his press for time and took two large ball-shaped objects down from hooks on the wall.

"Helmets. A must-have for any wannabe Recon officers," he said, winking at Holly. She scowled and took the helmet, putting it on.

The helmet whirred to life around her, various lights bleeping on and off, and it felt oddly comfortable in the tight device.

"Loudspeakers, because people can't really hear you inside that," he pointed to two speakers on both sides, "The tinted-black visor, so you can see people but people can't see you, a live-feed camera so I can see you—"

Trouble cut him off. "You're going to be watching us?"

Foaly looked irritated to be disturbed from his explaining. "Of course—you can't just go wandering off without knowing what to do! Anyway," he continued, " here's the voice-activated microphone so you can communicate to Trouble, myself, or both of us simultaneously, a pressure seal, a 400-watt lamp, and control buttons that can only be pressed by the user's fingerprints." He looked pleased with this last one.

At Holly's questioning look, he said "That's a new feature. Once you put your helmet on, it recognizes you for the user. Oh yes," he pulled out a pair of funny-looking masks, "these are your detachable oxygen and pollution masks.

"Normally you would need a whole bunch more stuff, but you're not going up to the surface, just to the backcountry, so you don't need much."

"Backcountry?" asked Holly, messing around with the buttons on her helmet.

"The Browns recently bought a giant mansion out there, away from Haven. They used the money that Jon's been earning. Big security, but all technology—lax in guards who might accidentally find out what they're planning. It's the perfect place for their headquarters, and their excuse was that they hadn't been rich before and got a little extravagant with the spending," said Trouble, struggling with his own helmet.

"And just in case," Foaly broke in, "you'll need weapons. One moment, I'll go in the back and get a good type." He trotted through a door in the back Holly and Trouble hadn't noticed before with the numerous amount of tin-foil hats tacked up on it.

Holly thought of something suddenly. "What's their motive?"

"Sorry?"

"What do they want?" she asked Trouble. "Why are they attacking the LEP?"

He stared at her. "Haven't you figured it out?"

Irritated, she glared at him. "Well, you never told me."

"I assumed you knew!"

"I don't! So tell me now!"

"Think about it, Holly," said Trouble, frustrated, "Imagine it. The LEP fails, or at least, almost fails. The Council grows desperate—they're the best police force in Haven, and we can't afford for it to just close. So, they think, obviously the Commanders aren't doing this right. They've allowed the LEP to fail. Therefore, they need a new leader. One who won't let it fail… one who's saved the business before. Who'd they pick?"

She didn't have to think about it long before it hit her. "Jon Brown."

"Yes. He'd managed to pull the money of the LEP up when we were at our worst point. So hey, the Council thinks, he'd work."

"So that's what they want," Holly thought aloud, "just control of the LEP?"

"_Just_ control of the LEP?" he gaped. "Holly, the LEP has a prominent position in Haven, you know that! The Browns could be very influential to all sorts of people, including the Council, from that position."

"Yeah, it just seems like there'd be something else."

Trouble chuckled. "Rubbish, Holly. What else could there possibly be?"

Holly was saved from responding by Foaly, who burst back in the room holding two bright silver guns. Neutrinos, to be exact.

He was grinning. "The Neutrino Millenium. I forgot I had these—we weren't supposed to release these to the officers yet, but since this is a special case I thought you were the exceptions."

"Won't Root get mad?" Holly asked as she eyed the covetable guns. Still jovial, Foaly handed one to her.

"Of course he will! Now, are you done? Got everything you need?"

At first, Trouble nodded, but then he seemed to remember. "Are we just going to drive up to the Brown's door? Don't we need a better mode of transportation?"

There was silence for a moment, but when Holly finally looked up into Foaly's smirking centaur face, she knew that he planned for one of them to ask about that, just to add to the drama. Foaly was like that.

Which meant he had something spectacular to show them.

"What is it, Foaly?" asked Holly, a little warily. You never know what kind of things Foaly could come up with. One unforgettable example was his tinfoil hat, which he believed kept away his enemy's (namely Opal Koboi) probes into his minds… but that's another story at another day.

Meanwhile, Foaly opened the door to the back room wide, and at first Trouble and Holly saw nothing, just a room filled with various weapons and gadgets.

But then they turned to look at the door.

And hung up on the back of that door were half a dozen pairs of wings.

Not just any wings, though. _New_ wings. Glossy, fine, beautiful, new, high-tech pairs of wings.

Trouble and Holly stared for what seemed like eternity.

But Foaly couldn't wait that long, of course, and excitedly started talking about his creation. "They're new. Extremely new. Nobody else knows about them—aren't they wonderful? They're a prototype, sure, but I'm perfectly positive that nothing's wrong with them—see, look, there they can hook up to their helmet, and they come with a tool kit and some counter-beat wing stabilizers, two exhaust pipes, and the fuel area is lined with the materiel that Moonbelts are made out of, so you can compact a lot of fuel in a small area and still have it extremely light, look, the wings are made out of a new extremely sturdy kind of metal that's just come out in the market, it's very light and extremely hard to break, aren't they wonderful?"

And Foaly probably would've gone on for a long time after that had Trouble not spoken. Er, if you could call it that.

"Woah," he croaked, looking at the Dragonfly™ model (for that was its name, it had it printed on both wings along with a "_©_ _Foaly_" sign.). "Woah." He said this partly to stop Foaly from speaking, and partly to try and express his thoughts.

Holly couldn't agree with him more. If there was one thing that all elves loved, it was flying. Sure, it wouldn't be as nice as flying above ground, but flying in Haven was still something.

Foaly took two of the wing pairs down and gave them to Trouble and Holly, who handled them like newborn children. Foaly chuckled. "You don't have to be so careful—they don't break easy."

They ignored him.

"And _now_ you're about ready."

After a while of trying to get the wings on, closing them up so nobody noticed them, and plain marveling at the fact that they had these amazing things on, that was when they were prepared to leave.

Foaly rather thought they looked like children about to perform their first Ritual, eager and ready to go fly.

"You don't fly yet," chuckled Foaly. "You have to get out of sight---you can't just start flying. People will get suspicious."

_Of what?_ Holly wanted to ask, but looking at her wings, restrained herself.

Reluctantly, they got in Trouble's car, halfheartedly planning out things for the next few hours that it would take to get out of Haven (just because the Traffic workers were back doesn't mean everything was back to normal immediately) and where to leave the car. Somewhere inconspicuous, somewhere it'd be seen as normal and at home, where nobody would suspect anything.

In other words, they had almost nowhere to choose out of. But that was a problem for later.

Quickly, remembering about his appointment, Foaly spoke to them. "I have to wipe the memory of that memory wiper, and then I'll go to my booth and watch you all. I'd suggest taking Route 42 and skipping 66 around. It's rush hour there this time of day."

Holly nodded, already excited even though they hadn't even begun to leave. "Bye, Foaly."

Trouble nodded his goodbye, and pressed on the gas pedal.

They would've made a funny pair, dressed in their LEP uniforms (though they had long since taken off their helmets so the Commanders wouldn't notice), clunky bracelets on their wrists, and large packs on their backs. But luckily when Trouble was younger and in his teen years, he had gotten his windows tinted a navy blue since at that time, it was all the rage.

He probably wouldn't have done it if he knew it would've helped him out later in life, mused Trouble thoughtfully.

Meanwhile, Holly was caught up in her own past. Going through her own childhood memories, she flipped through the atlas to the page Trouble had marked. There was a giant red dot where the mansion was, and she followed the path from where they currently to where the dot was.

Follow up on this road from the LEP, merge onto Route 42 for a long time, pass up 66 and keep on 42 for a long long time, going around, pass Mesquite, Acorn, and Grassland Roads…

Acorn?

_Oh._

"Trouble?" She looked down at the atlas, disbelieving. She had forgotten…

"Yes?" He seemed to sense the conflict of emotions in her voice, because he looked over at her curiously.

"I know where we can park the car."

Now he looked with even more curiosity. "Where?"

"My mother's house."

"Your _mother?_"

"Yeah." Holly looked back at the map. "54 Acorn Road. That's her address."

"Oh, well then." Trouble said. "We'll just drop by, say hi, leave the car with her and go on."

Holly made no response.

"Holly?" he asked. "Is there a reason why you don't want to go there?"

She sighed. "I haven't seen my mother for about a year, since I got the acceptance into the Academy. It doesn't seem like long, it isn't really, but she was rather mad at me when I decided to take it and move closer to the LEP. I wanted to take the job because that's what my father did.

"My dad died, but not on the job, it was from an illness. I can't guess why my mom hated the career so. She never liked it much, and she never said much about it. But she was absolutely furious when I left, and she never called me or sent a letter or anything."

"Sounds like she's where you got your streak of stubbornness."

This made Holly smile. "Yeah, I guess. I just won't know what to say to her."

Trouble made a show of checking his watch. "Well, you have only," he looked at it, "four hours to think about it, so you better get started." He grinned at her, and she matched it with one of her own.

This seemed to break the ice between them, and they talked more freely in the next two hours. Trouble told her about his brother ("He was always jealous of my name, and after I changed it to Trouble he called me Trub, just to try to lessen its value.") and that he's starting the Academy in a few years. ("One of the youngest ever," he said with just a touch of pride in his voice.")

In return, Holly told about her early life ("It was rather boring, as I was an only child,") and her mother.

"She's got this funny English accent, it's a little strange, but interesting to listen to—she had this job to go get some plants and things that grow from over England," as of course plants don't grow naturally underground, "and she loved the way they talked so adopted it herself. Plus it made her job easier; people there don't tend to trust you if you sound different, or so she tells me."

Trouble laughed. "I picked up my edge of an accent up from my dad."

"Australian, right?" Holly remembered when she first noticed his tendency to speak that way.

"Yup. My dad worked in the LEP once, he got as far as Major before he retired, and he always pushed for the jobs in Australia and New Zealand. He always liked to tell stories of giant mice that hopped six feet in the air."

Chuckling, Holly checked the time. "How long do we have left? Two hours?"

He shrugged, looking about. "Yeah, I guess."

She groaned. If there was one thing Holly lacked at the time, it was patience.

They spent the rest of the time chatting and planning, moving about, and overall growing to be closer. Holly would look back at that time later and life and claim that was when she really got to know Trouble, that that was really when they became friends for life.

But in their current time, they weren't getting far. Holly was all for going up on their _new_ wings and hovering about the windows, but Trouble was insistent upon knowing which window to hover about, when to hover, how exactly to work the wings, et cetera et cetera. And that was what they had Foaly for.

He was finished wiping the memory wiper's memory, and when they called him up using Holly's helmet (Trouble was driving and so unable to use his own) was eagerly already planning their entire trip.

"Holly! Right, I've got this for you. You park the car here, it's a abandoned supermarket that failed when everyone in the town moved to Haven—"

"We already have a place, Foaly," Holly said, tracing circles on the helmet's shiny metal. It was placed on her lap, positioned so one speaker was toward both her and Trouble so they could both hear the centaur.

"You do? Where?"

"My mother's house," said Holly.

Trouble added, "It's much closer then that supermarket, and it'll fit in perfectly—at a resident's house."

"Oh." Foaly sounded doubtful for a moment, then scratched out something on his paper and started again. "Well then, I've found a window in the mansion that's not protected by ten zillion traps."

"Where is it?" Trouble asked, probably already making up his own mental plan.

"It's at the top of the building, in the back. It belongs to Jon's younger sister, who insisted on the traps being let off because they clog up the window, and she likes to look out the window and watch the birdies."

"How do you know these things?" said Trouble, amazed.

"She has an online journal." Foaly replied.

Holly couldn't help smirk at that. "You really do use every resource possible."

"Which is why I'm so much more successful then everyone." Holly and Trouble could both hear the unsaid addition: _Including Opal Koboi._ Foaly's obsession with continually beating her knew no limits.

"Right," he continued, "well, I won't be able to tell you much more about the house until we get there and I scan it with your iris-cams."

Holly touched her eyelid warily. She had forgotten that it was there.

"And then we'll be able to find out where the computers are, which is where all incriminating evidence will be. Then you can use the upload/download port on your locators to take it, and voila! You're done. Probably the most-talked about officers in a while, too, after this is over."

_Yes_, Holly thought happily, _that would be nice._ Maybe they'd even let her into Recon…

She drifted off for a while, dreaming of going through that cycle, Corporal, Captain, Major… and she was almost a Commander, until a couple hours later Trouble shook her awake.

"Holly, I need you to tell me where your mom's house is."

"54 Acorn Road," mumbled Holly sleepily, "I told you that."

"Yes, well, there seem to be a lot of Acorn Road houses. The numbers are too far away for me to see."

She sat up, rubbing sand from her eyes. "Use your iris-cam, stupid."

Trouble seemed a little embarrassed to have forgotten that. "Oh, yes, right." They started to drive down the street, each house seeming to bring Holly a flood of memories.

That one, right there, 33 Acorn Road. Lili's house. They had played there when they were young, but then Holly left to join the LEP, and Lili stayed behind. Holly didn't even know she had followed until she saw her at the Traffic building.

A block more, and then Holly saw it.

It was a plain house; beige colored to look natural but you could tell that it had reinforced metal underneath. A granite driveway with plastic flowers surrounding it, it looked almost identical to the houses around it.

But Holly recognized it immediately: it was her house.

**END OF CHAPTER TWENTY**

**Drawer is a funny word. I keep on wanting to spell it droor, because that's how I pronounce it.**

**Okay, fine. I got a little carried away with this chapter, so there's going to be more. Meh. Maybe a lot more.**

**Anyone who explains the significance of 42 and 66 gets a clap on the back.**

**P.S.: refloc, you were right. There was no possible way I could finish it in one chapter. I must've been delusional. I bow to your writing experience.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Okay. So I've been a very bad person and a sinner. It's been like ten weeks. I have many, many excuses, some of which are actually true, but I'm guessing you don't want to hear them all. I deserve to be shot, I know. I wrote the chapter very slowly, and every time I wasn't ready to update I'd think "Okay, I'll write another thousand words and update next week." Obviously, things don't work out that way, and I ended up ten weeks later with a three-thousand-word chapter. Meep, I feel so incredibly horribly guilty, especially since most of you asked me to update soon. I promise I'll go review _all_ of your stories. And I suck at keeping up with reviewing, too. I've just been out of fanfiction lately. But I've reread the AF books, so I'll be more into things now. I also probably have some contradictions of things I said in earlier chapters, so please let me know if I do. But this story WILL be finished by when school's out (May 25), or I will… do something bad to myself! I'll lock up my iPod! If I don't update, you have permission to scream at me and email me and spam my livejournal. I encourage it.**

**The summary: I lose. I'm sorry. You may now bury me alive or whatever evil plans you reviewers have.**

**Summary: Right after Holly gets a job in the LEP, she cuts her hair. Each auburn lock falling through the floor makes her think about choices, and especially their consequences. What will happen after?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. Eoin Colfer does.**

_**Haircut**_

**Chapter Twenty-One**

The house looked… exactly as it did a year before. The same washed-out beige color, the same plastic flowers in the same fake-dirt places. The lights in the "sky" (actually a giant rock, since Haven is underground) were on to simulate day, but they would soon start fading to represent night.

It was about this time in Holly's childhood when she would say goodbye to Lili and her friends, when she retreated back into her home.

They took their LEP equipment off, putting them by the car—they didn't want any unneeded complications. Walking up to the door, she followed Trouble tentatively. Soon, as houses were cramped and driveways weren't very long, they were at the door.

"Well?" he asked impatiently, "Aren't you going to ring the doorbell?"

Holly sighed, mustering up her courage and pressed the little button. They heard the echoes of the doorbell ringing throughout the home, as the People were much smarter then Mud Men in that they realized it would never be heard if projected from one point only.

Merely fifteen seconds later, Mrs. Short answered the door.

"Hello?" she said cheerfully, not knowing the effect her presence had on her guests.

Holly stared. Her mother, by some strange coincidence, _also_ looked exactly the same. She still had the long wavy red hair, European accent (that was strong enough to make itself clear in one word) and willowy form that had caused Holly's father to get in quite a few fights with other men, back in the day.

Trouble stared. By one glance at her, he could see her resemblance to Holly. The red hair wasn't the exact shade of Holly's auburn, but he assumed Holly's father must've had brown hair. They still had some of the same features, though—the stubborn chin and small nose, the wide eyes and teetering a little bit on the short side.

"Hello?" repeated Ivy Short, not as happily as before. She looked at Trouble, since he was directly in front of her, with general annoyance. Only when she allowed her eyes to shift to the side did she get a surprise.

"Holly!" she exclaimed, all excitement regained. "How are you, what are you doing here…?" She stopped in the middle of her interrogation, looking back at Trouble with a slightly mischievous look in her eyes that were so alike Holly's.

Trouble had problems with that look. It was the same look Holly wore when she convinced him into coming here.

Holly also had problems with that look, though for different reasons. After all, who can read the mother as well as the child? She quickly said, "Mom, we're here on LEP business." Accidentally, she neglected to mention that only one actual LEP worker knew they were there, who was also, coincidentally, the only worker who approved/put up with what they were doing.

The light in Ivy's eyes dimmed for a moment, but soon returned full-force. "Well, come in! Have some nettle, or maybe a peppermint? Holly, do you remember peppermints and how much you loved them?"

Holly did. She also remembered her stash of peppermints under the bed, where she would stow away all the nasty things her mom gave her.

"Mom, we have to go. Police business and all. We were just wondering if we could leave Trouble's car here, and then pick it up after the… job." Switching tactics at the last moment, she decided not to say "mission", afraid of the repercussion this might have from her mother.

Trouble's phone rang. Well, it vibrated, so only he could feel that he was getting a call. He glanced at it, wondering if it was rude to pick it up.

"Why do you want to leave the car here?" asked Ivy quizzically. She couldn't single out why her house had been picked.

"We need to stash it somewhere where it's inconspicuous." Simultaneously, Holly and her mom looked at Trouble's car. It was bright red, shiny in the fake light, and the one white stripe and navy blue window tint set every small detail off. Somehow, Ivy doubted that this car could be "inconspicuous" anywhere.

"I… suppose that's all right," she said hesitantly, but realizing something she brightened up, "but when you're done and come to pick it back up you _must_ step in for a moment!"

Trouble's phone was still vibrating, and he itched to pick it up but good etiquette demanded that he call back. Well, and the fact that he glanced at the Caller ID and realized that he shouldn't talk to Foaly around Mrs. Short if Holly didn't want her to know what they were _really_ doing. Elfin hearing is very good, you know.

"Well, I…" Holly thought for a moment, trying to come up with a nice, polite-sounding way to refuse. If you have any experience in life whatsoever, you should know that there aren't many of them.

Exasperated, Trouble gave up. "Of _course_ we will," he said, dragging Holly down the street. "We'll come pick it up… later!" He waved, hoping it would be sooner rather then later when he came back for his car.

Luckily, the phone was still vibrating. Trouble picked it up.

"Hello? Foaly?"

"Yes, it's me. What took you so long? Why aren't you wearing your helmets?" asked the centaur irritably. He was _not_ used to waiting on the line for somebody.

"Uh…" Trouble started getting his equipment back, putting on the helmet and transferring the connection from his phone so he could talk to Foaly easier.

"Never mind that. Anyway, the quickest way to the mansion from here is north for a few blocks, then there's a straight path you can take to get to the back," said Foaly.

"Alright," said Trouble, although he already knew where the mansion was. He prepared to stop talking before Foaly's voice came from the speaker again.

"And one more thing."

"What?" he asked, a little annoyed.

"The Council is holding a meeting about the future of the LEP."

"What?" Trouble repeated, this time with more surprise. He started to walk a little faster. Holly looked at him curiously.

He could hear Foaly's sigh over the phone, clear and without any of the staticy mess that usually happened with phones. Not Trouble's, though.

"The LEP is running out of money, fast. Even with the Crunchball betting and the 'paid vacation that's not paid' of half the workers, we won't last that long. The Council is gathering to figure out what to do."

Trouble took a deep breath. Time to be sensible, now. "What does this mean for us?"

"Well, Jon and his parents are present. This is good because all you'll have to deal with is the grandparents and the younger sister, which shouldn't be too hard. But the Council said they won't take that long, since there are possible people waiting to buy the LEP—"

"_Buy_ the LEP?" The words left Trouble's mouth in shock, though he already knew what Foaly meant.

"Yeah, of course. We need a rich owner in order to keep on going. Anyway, they said they won't take long, and since the ride back here is four hours, maybe three if you hurry really fast, you need to be quick. You know about fairy documents, they're set in stone. Literally." Foaly was right. Fairy business deals, big ones, were carved into a stone plaque, to show that the deals were permanent, or at least long-lasting.

The centaur continued. "If you can get back in time, you can prove that the robbery in the first place was the Brown family's fault, and they'll have to pay back all the money they stole. Then the LEP's money problem will be solved, and voila, you two are heroes, as an added bonus."

Trouble didn't know how Foaly could joke at a time like this. At first it hadn't seemed that serious, just more of a practice-mission type. But the LEP being sold? This was a big deal.

To fully understand this, you must have some knowledge of the background of the LEP. It was started by one Jacob Pine, and rose to be a complete success, outdoing the government police by far. This was partly due to that they had a cooler name, and that they had a wider variety of jobs. Oh yes, and the fact that nobody really liked the government anyway.

But Pine had no wife, no children, and overall no living relatives. He also died mysteriously at the young age of six hundred and sixty-six, which is far younger then most fairies, especially those who do nothing except sit around all day, write their wills. Therefore, the Council decided that Mr. Pine's bank account would be the official LEP bank account, and he would be very happy in the afterlife if his money could be put to use for his beloved company.

So, basically, the LEP had no owner except a large sum of money, which had recently been plundered by a family called Brown.

And if the LEP had an owner again, everything would become messed up. Especially to a family as the Browns, who were most likely to get the company from the Council due to their prestige, money, and son.

Business was in fact a fragile world. Like a system of gears, almost. Put the pieces in the right way, and you can leave going for eternity (until it rusts, which is the business equivalent of your product falling out of style). But throw one rock, one fork into the system, and it gets messed up.

The bank robbery was one fork, but not an enormously big one. The system had been working along with that fork stuck in it, rather slowly, but working along—and soon, slowing down and almost to a stop. The Brown family was like a really large fork disguised as another gear. Throw it in, and the whole system will blow up.

Trouble knew enough about business and the Browns to know that when—if—they got the LEP, they would use it to further their own social status, and the LEP would eventually fail, turning into a social tool instead of a police agency. And even a goblin could realize that this would have tremendous repercussions on Haven, and anywhere else in the world.

He stopped and started to get out his wings. Holly followed, still curious. "Trouble?"

"Turn on your connection," he said. She did.

"Hello? Foaly?" she said quizzically. "What's going on?" Foaly sighed audibly, and began to explain.

"…So you need to get there and back. Fast," he finished. A little pale-faced, Holly took her pair of wings out also. It was likely they might be spotted, and flying in public was against regulations, but there was an unspoken agreement between Holly and Trouble that they should use them.

A few minutes later, they were prepared—with only a glance or five at the glossy wings on their backs, they took off.

Holly was slightly overtaken by the sheer joy of flying, but this joy was significantly lessened by the absence of wind and fresh air. She sighed and followed Trouble.

Trouble, on the other hand, was totally focused on his job, while still in tune with his surroundings. This was part of what made him an invaluable Recon officer—that and he was the most reliable. Signaling Holly behind him, he sped up.

Soon, they were at the mansion. It was… rather large, the word 'mansion' described it perfectly. From far away it looked like it was about to touch the sky.

Had Holly known about the White House, she would've said that this building was a perfect replica of what the White House would look like… in five centuries.

And it was. It had the same structure and similar shape, though it was larger. And it wasn't white—it was more of a futuristic gray-silver color, practically bragging about all the technology it held. It was even amazing from the back, which was where Holly and Trouble were at that moment.

"Well, Foaly?" asked Holly. "Where's our window?"

Foaly was silent for a few seconds, and Holly could hear the tapping of his fingers on the keyboard.

"At the top," he said, "and there's not much security. Her window is open, and she's not in the room, but I recommend that you shield just in case. There's a camera, and since there are no guards in the house I'm free to loop it. But watch out, they've got a whole bunch of weird things in the house. Like the kind of stuff you'd see in a Mud Man action movie."

Of course, Holly didn't know what he meant by the last part, nor did she care. Shielding, her and Trouble flew up to the window. It was open, as Foaly had said.

They flew in, retracting their wings. Holly looked up at the camera warily, but it made no sign of noticing her, and neither did the rest of the house. No alarms, no blazing guns popping out of nowhere. She relaxed.

Trouble noticed, and poked her slightly. "Don't relax," he whispered, "you never know what'll happen. You have to stay tensed and prepared."

Holly wasn't sure she liked the idea of him telling her what to do, but she nodded anyway. Trouble had already been on some successful recon missions; he'd know what to do.

They walked forward, looking around. The walls were covered with posters of various rock bands, and behind the posters you could barely see the wall was painted purple. The girl had her own computer that looked to be rather ahead of her time, and her own TV that was pretty nice, as far as TVs go. She seemed to be rather spoiled.

Holly took out her gun, just in case. Something about this place was disagreeing with her nerves.

Leaving the room, the hallway was deserted. Unless technology counted as people, of course—the place was infested with every sort of gadget. Cameras were moving about, up and down as well as right and left.

"Foaly?" she asked, "where do we go?

"Turn to your right and walk—there's stairs at the end of the hall."

"We can't take the elevator?"

"No. If you take the elevator, it'll show up on the computers. There's nothing I can do about that."

Holly sighed. Stairs were always annoying, even when you're flying on them. When you try and turn around you almost always hit the wall. "What floor do we stop at?"

Foaly checked. "Five. You're on eight right now."

Shielded, Holly extended her wings out and started to fly, Trouble at her side. They opened the door and went down the stairs, careful not to miss the signs for the correct floor. Soon they were at level five.

"Okay, what you're looking for are the camera records. They should have records from the beginning of time or this house in the computer room, which is where you're going. There you can get a copy of the video that shows their meeting to rob the LEP bank account, and you're set. The room is the door to your left."

"Foaly, there are no doors on the left." Holly looked at the wall. It was smooth the whole way through.

"Yes, there is one. Move forward and to the left—if you feel the wall, you'll find the opening. I've already unlocked it for you from here." There was more then a touch of smugness in Foaly's voice.

Holly felt rather stupid, but she obeyed and ran her hands over the wall. Behind her, Trouble was looking around.

She felt the ridge. Excited, she talked into the microphone. "Foaly, I've got it! I have the door opening!" Holly started to open it.

"Wait, Holly! This room is resistant to my scans, there could be something—" But it was too late. Holly opened the door, and a blinding flash of red enveloped her.

**END OF CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

**I do hope you understood my gear metaphor. Heh. And I hope I got the whole business thing right. I'm thirteen, I know nothing.**

**prepares self for mutilating . **


End file.
